Maelstrom 22 The Longest Night
by illmatar
Summary: Maelstrom part 22...my personal fave and round 2 of Autobots VS. Vector Sigma. Optimus Prime tries to conquer Sigma's control. Arcee is kidnapped and civil war amongst the Autobots looms. M for violence, themes, and language. Images up on DA soon.
1. Chapter 1

Maelstrom Chapter 35  
The Longest Night

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex. Rated M for adult themes! **

**  
Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine. Critiques adored!  
**

**Maelstrom Chapter 35  
The Longest Night  
Part A  
**

**  
**"Rodimus! Quit looking at me with that...that...smirk on your face! We haven't done anything yet!" Arcee snapped.

"I didn't say anything!" Rodimus said.

"No you just looked it!"

"Can't help that! I'm happy. I'm happy for all of us, but I'm really happy just for you too, 'Cee," Rodimus said.

Arcee stopped in her tracks. They were heading for yet another brainstorming session in the council chamber and she had paused to drag him out of his office before he was late again. As excited as he was about all of this, Marissa had found a nest of slavers deep in the southern dead-zone and he had been poring over the report, oblivious to the sound of his own chronometer going off right in his audio sensor.

Arcee had coughed politely from the door and his head had snapped up like a shot had gone off. Selective hearing obviously. His look of focused surprise had morphed into a huge and happy grin when he saw who it was. A simple "Thanks Arcee" would have sufficed, but he kissed her hand and took her arm as if he were escorting her to a royal waltz.

The grin hadn't faded, triggering her annoyance.

Usually though, when he smiled at you, you got the sense he was doing it all for your benefit. Today was different. Today under his mask of happiness was... more happiness.

"Thanks Rodimus," she said. "I'm excited too. A little scared, but a lot happy! I don't know...it seems like a long time since we had anything to really feel hopeful about."

"You and Springer deserve this. I'm proud of you," he told her, optics flaring.

"You showed us the way," she reminded him.

"I was just the messenger boy," he grinned.

"You and Lancer risked your lives to bring us that message Rodimus Prime, and don't think I'll forget it either," Arcee said fiercely. "Vector Sigma made all of us amnesiacs but that's over now."

Rodimus' smile contorted a bit ruefully, "It's nice to have friends again. At least maybe I made up a little ground for dumping all of our paperwork on you two."

"Stop it. You know we're glad to help. It's boring and tedious and infinite but we are glad to help. You guys should have asked for help years ago, even if we weren't fighting the war we're fighting. It's too much," Arcee said.

"Ask for help? Nah. How could we get into the Martyrdom Hall of Fame if we had help?"

"Oh! Silly me! Shall Springer and I hand your reports back over then?"

"No, no! In the spirit of self-sacrifice, Op and I have decided to let you two be in the Hall of Fame!" Rodimus intoned in his deepest, most resonating speech voice.

"That's so very generous of you," Arcee said.

"Always looking out for our people," Rodi said.

They snickered together and made it to the council chamber, where they found Springer cooling his heels by the door. Rodimus slipped Arcee's hand into his own, gave her a twirl, and handed her off to Springer like a dance partner. Springer sighed and shook his head.

"Why are you out here?" Arcee questioned her mate.

"They won't let me in without you," Springer complained. "I smell a rat."

Rodimus looked surprised, "I smell a party."

"Don't pretend you have nothing to do with it," Springer smirked.

"Actually, I've been home with the ladies," Rodimus smiled.

"A party you weren't in on? You've been domesticated!" Springer jeered.

"Just you wait Springer! Your turn is coming!" Rodimus laughed. He activated the door, "They're HERE!" he sang, somehow slipping behind his friends and giving them a push.

Cheering and applause greeted them from inside.

The gleaming walls of the council chamber were indeed littered with streamers and the confetti rained down on Springer and Arcee as they walked in. The entire command staff, including Marissa was there. Lancer was too, smug she had managed to keep this from her mate. The walls were decorated with Jazz's dubious art - depicting a robotic stork carrying a bundle with an Autobot symbol on it. The stork looked like an unfortunate cross between Swoop and Skylynx. What had them all laughing evil laughs though was the shiny metal disco ball. The sign on it read "Hit me!"

"I made a pinata!" Jazz crowed. "Free hits on Vector Sigma today! I made it strong - we should all get a few whacks in!"

He was wrong though. They drew lots to see who got the first hit. Magnus won. The ball lost. No one seemed to mind.

x  
x  
x

Hours later, Optimus leaned back in his chair so far it creaked in protest. There was a small stack of empty energon cubes by his right hand.

"There'd better not be a crisis for a few hours. I overdid it," he stated unrepentantly.

Elita smirked at him and handed him another energon cube. Kup, sitting on her other side, drained yet another.

"You are pushing it," Optimus told Elita, but he took the cube and put his feet up on the conference table.

Rodimus paused behind Op's head. He and Lancer (in her exo-suit) were dancing on the crushed remnants of the pinata, as were Springer, Arcee and Jazz. (Watching Lancer and Rodi dance was...interesting for the others. On the one hand, their link and their training made them exceptionally good with each other, on the other her suit was as disturbing as always.) The young Prime looked at his partner's precariously tilted chair and said, "I could be so mean right now."

"Don't even think about it Rodi," Optimus said, glaring hazily at his partner upside down over the back of his seat.

"Now Optimus, you know that I can't help at least THINKING it," Rodimus mused, tapping his finger to his chin.

"You boys talk too much," Elita smirked, meeting Lancer's optics. Optimus' chair received a calculated push, and Rodimus got the same from his dance partner.

The girls laughed while two Primes and a chair ended up twisted around each other on the floor. Rodimus cussed at his mate. Optimus grumbled and laughed. The chair said nothing. Magnus and Marissa, who had given up dancing on the table to rest her swollen ankles (and Magnus' bruised ego - dancing was not one of his better skills), stood and applauded.  
"When was the last time we did this?" Optimus wanted to know as his partner pulled him to his slightly unsteady feet.

"Had a party? When the M & M's got engaged I think," Rodimus said, righting the somewhat bent chair and offering Op a seat.

"No...had a party with just the command staff," Optimus said. He sat and put his feet back up on the table. The injured chair had a few things to say about that.

"Oh...um. Never," Rodimus said after a brief reflection.

"Why not?' Optimus wondered aloud.

"Well, first it was just you and me which is too sad for a party, then Jazz and the M &M's joined us but we were too busy, and then we were...we were..." Rodimus faltered. He didn't want to say it.

Kup, who was clearly over-energized, looked at him blearily. "We were busy turning on each other like screw-stripped starving Sharkticons. Never thought I'd live t' see the day. Chewing on each other. Even you two," he eyed the Primes. "Where is our wisdom Optimus, if you and Rodi can't be civil to each other?"

"I'm sorry, my friend," Optimus said sadly, "We let all of you down." He took a huge hit off his new cube.

"We are just going to have to party more often," Rodimus said. "Just the command staff, so we can really blow off some steam. I got more work done in another dimension where I couldn't really work than I have in a very long time."

"Did I just hear you admit that our vacation, misdirected though it was, did you good?" Optimus asked.

"Yup," Rodimus said.

"Mark the day! I declare a national holiday!" Optimus crowed.

"Er...we don't have national holidays," Rodimus pointed out.

"It'll be a first!" Optimus said with conviction.

"Ohh-Kay! You've had enough," Rodi grinned.

"Enough? Or not nearly enough," Optimus drawled.

"Now you sound like a Texan," his partner informed him gravely, as if breaking news of a fatal condition.

"No need t' be insultin'" Optimus told him, sounding more like a cowboy than ever. "Y' can quit snickerin' the both of you." He reached backwards and attempted to poke his partner reproachfully, an interesting trick given that he was again leaning back in his chair and looking at Rodi upside down. Since Rodimus was not inclined to over-energize (the brawl with Talon and Shellshock had taught him better) avoiding the poorly aimed fingers wasn't even work. He just stepped to one side and befuddled Op's aim entirely.

The senior Prime didn't notice.

"Y' don' make me furious right now," Optimus observed.

"I guess it's a start," Rodimus smiled.

"Y' gonna talk to Spike soon? Should. Sh...sh...Shellshock too. Might help 'em. You too," Optimus remarked.

"If Spike ever comes down off the Maelstrom, I probably will," Rodimus said. He and Lancer gave up the dance floor and sat down at the table, opposite Elita and Kup. Optimus did not sit up, but talked to the ceiling.

"He's still up there? What're they doin'?"

Lancer answered him, "Talking shop, I think."

"Shop?" Elita asked. She reached over and helped Optimus tilt his seat up.

"Thanks 'Lita. I got stuck," Optimus told her.

"I could see that," Elita laughed. Then she gave Lancer her attention.

"Slaver hunting. Shellshock's catching him up on stuff. I don't know exactly. None of us are allowed in 'Shock's quarters, ever. I can tell you I went by to check on them and the laughter coming out of Spike sounded pretty demented. I think Golden-Boy may have hit on Spike's hidden blood-lust," Lancer said, sounding slightly nervous.

Rodimus winced. "They may be rediscovering their friendship through a mutual need for revenge."

Optimus finished his cube in a final draught. Rodimus looked a bit jealous.

"That's not healthy," Optimus mourned.

"At least Spike is talking to someone," Rodimus whispered, his shoulder struts slumped.

"At least Shellshock is talking at all!" Lancer said. "There was a long time we were certain the Jabez had reduced his vocabulary to 'yes', 'no' , and 'go away!'"

"Hey! Buzzkills!" Springer griped from the "dance floor". "Are you done being downers? This is supposed to be a celebration for our new... er...kid!"

"Good point," Rodimus said. He got up and offered Elita his hand. "Wanna dance? Your boyfriend doesn't look up to the job."

Laughing, she accepted, and Lancer got up to give Jazz a partner. After a few minutes of mock-grumbling and enduring Rodi dipping Elita almost into his lap, Optimus was able to get enough balance back to steal his mate back from his partner.

It was many hours before the "meeting" broke up, and the Autobots on duty downstairs wondered about the command staff going back to their quarters with such ridiculous smiles on their faces.

x  
x  
x

Next Day:

"Well?" Magnus asked.

"Well what?" Springer snapped.

"Well...well...er..." Magnus.

Springer knew full well what Magnus was trying to ask, was annoyed at being pestered, and not about to be helpful.

"Well well what?" Springer retorted.

"This is a fascinating conversation," Rodimus remarked dryly as he went by.

"Not helpful," Magnus told him. Rounding on his commander was much more comfortable and familiar than starting this conversation with Springer.

"Oh...he wants help! Here ya go. When asking a rude and nosy question it is better to just get it over with. For example you could say, 'Springer, I, Ultra Magnus, legendary Autobot warrior, am just dying to know if you and your lovely mate Arcee got lucky last night?!' Or you could say 'Yo! Springo? Did ya get laid or were you too over-energized and tired 'cause you're too old to party any more?' See Magnus! Rude I can help with." Rodimus beamed.

Springer and Magnus both glared.

"No one appreciates me," Rodimus said, continuing on with an armload of scientific gadgetry. They were helping Perceptor move some of the most classified projects out of his now useless storm-cellar and into new, larger rooms. The new lab had been in progress for months and wasn't quite finished yet, but the battle had forced an early relocation.

"I hate it when he does that," Magnus growled.

"Me too," Springer returned. For a moment they were unified in aggravation. Magnus hoped that would work to his advantage.

"Well?" he asked.

"Well what? YOU haven't asked me anything yet!" Springer said testily.

From up ahead of them they heard Rodi laughing and Arcee's voice floated back to them as well.

"We were too tired! Honestly Springer! Was that so difficult?"  
x  
x  
x

Magnus' awkward interest was far from the only intrusion the Autobot couple would have to endure over the following days, although most of the others were either politely direct or subtly probing what the hold-up was. Springer was ready to blow the head off the next person who asked, but Arcee refused to rush things. She wanted them both rested and fully healed after the fight, even though their wounds were minor and already mostly repaired. She also wanted her mate in a relaxed and happy mood.

This did not seem likely any time soon.

"Arcee! If we don't get this over with soon the Autobots are going to need a new leader!"

They had just retired to their secondary quarters in Central. Springer grabbed a buffer and started furiously attacking the scuffs all over his arms. Perceptor's awkward equipment just had to be classified didn't it? Carrying it really scuffed things up!

Arcee sighed, and looked up from the massive back-load of paper-work Silverbolt had sent her from Earth. "I'm sure Rodimus doesn't mean anything by..."

Springer interrupted her, waving the whirling buffer through the air in agitation. "Rodimus isn't the problem! Rodimus smirks but he keeps his yap shut! OPTIMUS is the one who keeps suggesting we go take a break!"

Arcee giggled. "Oh I see," she said.

"I'm glad they're all so happy for us," Springer ground out. The gears around his mandible whined in protest. "But I'm nearly ready to call the whole thing off just so they'll leave us some privacy!"

Arcee frowned. "Our privacy is going out the window once they announce what's happened. We'll be followed everywhere we go, at least until newlings become more common."

Springer groaned.

"Springer...if...if you don't want to," Arcee said. She couldn't hide how disappointed she would be, but her relationship with her mate came first.

Her mate read her body language, dropped his buffer, yanked her out of her chair, and crushed her to him. "'Cee, it'll be worth it. I may be stupid, but that kind of intrusion doesn't bother me much. Any stranger who can't back off will have to explain themselves to my blaster, but having my best friends asking about what we're doing with each other is just... just... obnoxious!"

Arcee smiled fondly at him, reached around his body and grabbed the buffer before it ran itself off the table he'd thrown it on. She shut it off and then reinstated her embrace around him.

"Opps." he said. She just smiled.

"I mean really! If they'd just give us a minute to ourselves! I don't like feeling the entire council is in here watching us like Cybertronic peeping Toms! Even Elita! She offered me some 'soothing music' today! 'Soothing!' Right! The implication that I need help getting together with you is insulting. What I need is a minute of peace and privacy!"

"Oh," Arcee smiled, "Like this one?"

"...." Springer managed.

They spent a moment just standing there, looking into each other's optics.

"Have I told you...how...amazed I am you picked me?" Springer said. "Out of everyone...all the Autobots...any of them would have been happy with you, but you picked me."

"You have, more than once, and I ask you like always...what other Autobots?" Arcee grinned. "Were there others? I didn't notice! Maybe I should go back and have a look....then I might find one who isn't so shy!"

She shrieked as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

"I'll give you shy!" he shouted.

They forgot about what the rest of the universe wanted for a few hours.

x  
x  
x

The next day First Aid opened up very early for an unscheduled but not unexpected physical exam. When he was done, per pre-made arrangements, First Aid reported his findings to Rodimus immediately in person. He had to go to Rodi's quarters where the young Prime actually was taking a pseudo -vacation, staying at home with his mate and daughters, and letting his command staff take on his duties as they had been planning on shouldering them anyway.

Rodimus let his medical officer in after the mandatory conversion scans, but he didn't need to wait for the medic to speak to know the news. First Aid's optics said it all.

Rodimus grinned, laughed, and spun First Aid around until the medic was dizzy. Then the young Prime went to gloat over the com at his partner for having the news first.

"You sure you want to do that?" First Aid asked seriously. "You two aren't on the best terms yet." The medic was still unnerved by the tension between the leaders - mostly that it had gotten so bad while he wasn't aware of it.

"Oh, I have to rub that one in. It's mandatory. Besides, I've got to remind him that it's not always what you ask, but who you ask. I knew they'd go running to you the minute they were done."

First Aid looked at him reproachfully. "Optimus and Elita are probably recharging. They were up late helping Perceptor."

"I helped too, and I'm on leave...sort of....and hey big girl! What're you doing up?" Rodimus exclaimed.

First Aid was a bit thrown by this question until he realized it was aimed at a very small, sleepy child standing in the door to Rodimus' hidden human spaces. She was disheveled, her pajamas askew and her silky red locks hung all over her face.

She looked at her father in clear annoyance. First Aid found her patently fascinating. Any Autobot familiar with Rodi would have known that expression immediately even if they'd never heard of her before.

"Daddy, can't you be happy more quietly? You are making my head hurt," Edana said peevishly.

Rodimus morphed down. "Come here," he said, picking her up when she slowly complied. "I'm sorry. Was I shouting? Did I wake you up?"

First Aid was a confused again. Rodimus hadn't raised his voice, and besides those hidden rooms were entirely soundproofed. Nevertheless, the child nodded and Rodimus kissed her and repeated his apologies.

"Give me a minute First Aid?" Rodimus asked.

The medic watched at Rodimus carried Edana past the scanners and back into the human living area. It was more like ten minutes of waiting before Rodimus came back out without his daughter. He was still clearly thrilled, but was working on controlling it.

"Lancer got her back to bed. Let's go to my main office before I wake her up again," Rodimus said.

"How did you wake her in the first place? We weren't being loud," First Aid wanted to know.

"We could have been playing trumpets and it wouldn't have bothered her," Rodimus asked. "Not through those walls."

"But she accused you of shouting," First Aid rejoined.

"It's the empathy. In my heart, I was shouting for joy," Rodimus explained.

"Shouldn't she...like happiness?" First Aid asked. What he really wanted was a full scientific scan of the child but knew Rodimus would deck him for suggesting it. Rodimus hadn't ever liked Med-Lab, even as Hot Rod, but since the Jabez he was down-right paranoid. Add to that how protective he was of his children and you had a recipe for a two-hour rant.

First Aid shuddered. He couldn't blame Rodi, even though First Aid felt the more they knew about the girls the better. The list of torture Rodimus had displayed for the council still haunted the gentle medic, even if everyone else seemed to be accepting it and moving on. Of all those present First Aid's medical training had given him the most vivid image of what Rodimus, Shellshock, and Astrotrain had endured and he could picture their pain all too clearly. He was glad for the distractions of Ratchet's "return" and the reproduction problem. Every time he had a moment to catch his breath, horror caught up with him.

Rodimus shrugged, "She does like happiness, but any emotion will disturb her if it's 'loud' enough and she's not braced for it. She's getting better at holding her shields up in her sleep, but Claudia says she doesn't quite have it yet."

They reached his formal office and went in. Rodimus bounced his way to his com. He grinned at First Aid. "I'd much rather wake Op up with this news than my kid! He may try to blast me, but a cranky Edana means a cranky Lancer and I'll take an annoyed Op over that any day!"

"Can't blame you there, just leave me out of it!" First Aid said.

"As if I would," Rodimus said indignantly. He punched the com, laughing madly, "OPTIMUS! First Aid says it's time to get rolling!"

For once, First Aid seriously considered his pacifistic life-style a burden.  
x  
x  
x  
The next day Elita gathered a few members of her old team and quietly told them the news, as well as a well crafted lie about Vector Sigma's approval and aid. They bought every word about the super-computer giving hints about where to search and eagerly accompanied her down into the empty heart of Cybertron. They wandered in circles for hours, braved old (recently set) traps, fought some drones (controlled by Lancer via remote control), and got really "lost" before they stumbled upon the elaborate set Rodimus and Jazz had engineered in an old Quint section of the planet. The area really was a Quint area. It even had some ancient records of early Cybertronians. The command staff just threw in a few artfully designed extras.

All this lying just to bring their people the truth.

Elita's team would be remembered for many things over the years, holding out against the Decepticon occupation for so long already made them revered among the Autobots, if not the Paradronians, but this "find" would top the list. The site would be regarded as nearly holy (or unholy, depending on which side you took).

Elita would always be glad she was good at schooling herself away from bitterness.

CONTINUED IN PART B


	2. Chapter 2

Maelstrom Chapter 35  
The Longest Night

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex. Rated M for adult themes! **

**  
Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine. Critiques adored!  
**

**Maelstrom Chapter 35  
The Longest Night  
**

Part B

CONTINUED FROM PART A

Medical personnel, about 200 in all, from all over Cybertron convened on Central. The overwhelming majority were Paradronian, with the exception of Pipes, Opal, Obsidian, and a handful of EDC officers with Transformer medical training. Even Spike, who technically fell into this last category, was prized off the Maelstrom long enough to attend.

They were covertly scanned for Conversion, and overtly sworn to secrecy for the next few days.

The news, when Optimus announced it with due reverence, rolled through the crowd in a shockwave of silence. Even Rodimus looked a bit nervous as the silence dragged out for several minutes.

Pipes finally squeaked, "Arcee! That's wonderful!"

The whole crowd erupted into pandemonium.  
x  
x  
x

There was a three day seminar on the reproductive files Elita's team had "discovered" down in the oldest labyrinths. The doctors absorbed and debated, listened and argued. Most were intrigued, over-whelmed and excited.

A few were enraged.

One left.  
x  
x  
x  
Optimus Prime geared up for a long day.

It was time to write a speech.

The speech he was to give was to be the work of more than one Prime, although only Optimus would be recorded as its author.

He and Rodimus were scheduled for a "jam session" the likes of which they hadn't held in years, and Optimus was not looking forward to it. He knew Vector Sigma had pushed his feelings around a bit, but apparently he needed to be on the verge of shut-down or over-energized to be relaxed around Rodimus.

Rodimus stepped out of the lift and waved at him.

Optimus brindled. Immature. Mocking. .... No. Just saying hello.

It was definitely going to be a long day.

x  
x  
x

If it had been anything else, anything less crucial, Optimus doubted he would have made it through the first awkward hours. Somewhere though he started focusing on what they were doing, not who he was doing it with. The anger he couldn't place and couldn't control slowly faded. The comments and revisions his partner made started sounding rational and helpful rather than sarcastic and condescending. Optimus felt as though he were two people.

He caught himself being snide and patronizing more than once and had an odd moment of surreal disassociation.

That's not me. I don't talk to anyone that way. I didn't talk to Megatron that way!

Rodimus seemed to not even hear the cutting edge in Optimus' remarks. Nevertheless, Optimus saw the faintest flinch, the slightest faltering in Rodi's smile. Op's jabs had hit home. The young Prime had reason to be happy, but Optimus would have expected that infamous temper to surface after comments like Op had been making.

Nothing. Rodimus was rolling with the barbs like he did with real blows during a fight. What an act of patience and loyalty...even devotion. What resolve it must have taken to suffer abuse without comment because Rodimus knew Optimus couldn't help himself. Obviously, Rodi had made up his mind not to respond to Optimus' Sigma-enhanced...what? Disdain? Scorn? Contempt?

Hatred.

Optimus finally had to admit it to himself. He really did hate Rodimus. Hated him like the senior Prime had never hated anyone, not even Megatron.

Well that would never do.

Optimus Prime didn't like what the assassin looking worriedly at him had to do, but hatred wasn't acceptable.

How had that happened anyway?

Simple. It wasn't his hatred. It was Vector Sigma's hatred.

Vector Sigma had plenty of reasons to hate Rodimus, but Optimus did not.

It was one thing, the senior Prime realized, to be told that you had been pushed and manipulated. It was quite another to find an alien thing crawling through your thoughts like some kind of poisonous centipede, burrowing into your mind like it belonged there. Lived there.

He attacked the attitude. I Do Not HATE Anyone! he told himself. And I especially don't hate Rodi! I do not hate Rodi! He willed the attitude to die - it didn't belong to him. It didn't belong IN him.

Suddenly, the flame-colored abomination started looking like a friend again. Just like that. Optimus felt like someone had taken a shorting circuit out of his brain....with a wrecking ball.

He put his head on the table, causing Rodimus, who had been doggedly ignoring the tension between them, to sit down and wait a moment before intruding.

"Optimus...are you OK?"

It was a diffident question.

How was it that the one person Optimus used to confide in before Elita's revival was afraid to ask if he was alright?

"No. I have a galactic sized headache," Optimus groaned.

"A headache?" Rodimus asked. Headaches in Transformers were almost unheard of outside of head-trauma.

"Yes," Optimus said.

"Should I get First Aid?" Rodimus asked. The worry in his voice...so clear. Assassin or no, this Autobot still cared. How had Optimus ever lost sight of that? Easy - Vector Sigma forced him not to see.

The headache increased. Optimus clutched his head with both hands and barely heard Rodimus summoning First Aid frantically over the com.

First Aid had come, fussed, and left again, saying there was nothing really wrong.

Rodimus sighed, and sat back down next to Optimus. He almost gave his partner a pat on the back but thought better of it.

"My friend, if I'm not mistaken you are experiencing the joys of a shattered Sigma compulsion. If you are feeling what I felt, it's like the stupid thought is gone, which is good, but it took half your cranial circuits with it. Not so good."

"Sums it up," Optimus said into the table.

"I'm sorry. Why don't you go home and shut down? This can wait another day," Rodimus suggested.

"No. We can't wait. Besides, I consider it penance for acting this way towards you."

"Don't be stupid. You don't owe me anything. Not even an apology. Vector Sigma owes me, and it is paying as we speak."

Pain or no, Optimus heard smug satisfaction in Rodi's voice. He looked up.

"Rodimus...what did you do?"

"Well, we cut it off from everything. No light, no sound, no little brains to manipulate. I felt sorry for it," Rodimus grinned.

Sorry for it. Sure.

"What did you do Rodimus?" Optimus groaned, putting his head back down.

"I decided to give it a bit of music to pass the time. That's all."

"Rodi...."

"Heh. I put 'It's a Small World' on repeat for its listening pleasure. Sums up its situation nicely doesn't it?"

Optimus moaned in despair. It hurt to laugh.  
x  
x  
x  
The next day, Optimus Prime geared up for the most critical public speech he had ever given. His face was to usurp broadcasts on Cybertron, Earth, and even a few neighboring systems. He sighed to himself, plagued by an odd thought about how many nasty messages he would receive for disrupting people's favorite shows. Humans in particular took that kind of thing very personally and always wanted to know why the Autobots didn't schedule their addresses at night.

Of course, these people forgot on Earth it was always night, always morning, and always Prime-time somewhere. It was enough to make you want to send them a globe...and Rodimus had, on a few occasions. Most of the idiots missed the point anyway.

Why was he thinking about this stuff?

Because he was nervous, still had something of a headache, and was incapable of judging the consequences of what might go wrong if he didn't give the best performance of his life.

Knowing Optimus was still sick, Rodimus had offered to take over for this speech. The senior Prime had been sorely tempted, but they had decided together it wasn't a good idea.

Rodimus had been diligently working on his rakish reputation. They couldn't afford the number of people who would simply dismiss what he was saying simply because HE was saying it.

Optimus had brindled a bit over that, thinking it disrespectful. Rodimus never really did anything; he just never contradicted any of the rumors, and oh there were rumors. It was amazing how many affairs and wild parties the young Prime was involved in, especially at times when Optimus knew he was off-world hunting slavers, or holed up in his quarters with "his ladies", or flat on his back in First Aid's secret med-bay recovering from wounds received tackling auction-houses in the bad-lands.

It was necessary their people thought of Rodimus this way, but Optimus still wondered how the femmes who claimed affairs with him, or the hosts of these parties (who sometimes had the nerve to charge the Autobots for damages Rodimus supposedly caused!) felt so comfortable telling all-out lies about one of the Primes. The fact that Rodimus simply paid all of the claims from his own account or smiled and shrugged over the rest of the rumors surely emboldened them. Optimus sighed. They probably thought Rodi lived such a wild life that he couldn't keep it all straight. It made the liars feel free to take advantage.

Necessary, but right now very inconvenient.

Rodimus had apologized, and Optimus had patted his shoulder.

"Now you're the one who shouldn't be sorry. This was the deal we made, remember? I handle the speeches. How did you put it? 'Op, you have the voice and the paint-job for it! If I'm on camera everyone is so busy adjusting the color on their screens they miss what I say!'"

They had both laughed.

Now Optimus was pushing his headache aside and ascending to the podium, trying not to get jitters like a rookie.

Two worlds worth of cameras pointed at him. They had told everyone the news was to be momentous, and the command staff was given permission to act as happy as they liked in public, although not to say the reason.

Jazz had worn a party hat for the last several days everywhere he went. Springer and Arcee held hands and laughed at everything. Headline news reported Ultra Magnus was seen wearing a smile that didn't falter even when confronted with the Paradronian Cultural Commission's shrill demands about investigations into the recent riots.

This last had probably generated the most buzz...especially among the enlisted Autobots.

Optimus squared his shoulders and turned down his optics even more than he usually did when confronted by camera lights.

Headache forgotten, he told the universe the best news he could think of.

"My fellow Cybertronians, and allies from wherever you hail, I have the momentous honor to tell you Cybertron is soon to have its first born child. One of my most respected warriors and dearest friends has conceived a new spark...."

x  
x  
x

The speech took nearly an hour. The question/answer session afterward took several more. The tone the Primes had tried to set was one of joyous caution. The details of this conception had all been changed, but the spirit of what was said was purest truth. The Autobots were welcoming this new life and all that followed it with delight, but they were unprepared for a huge surge in the population. Optimus and Elita attempted to show themselves as role models for restraint.

"Of course we are interested," Optimus told one reporter. "We have always remarked how lucky human couples were to be able to share their love for each other with and through their offspring. However it would be irresponsible for us to rush into this. Arcee's child is the most wonderful discovery, and we will make ready for its arrival with due haste, but the rest of us owe it to our young to be prepared for them before they arrive. For Arcee and Springer it is a miracle, for us it is a choice. We choose to be good parents before we are parents. We will wait until we know more and are ready. The records we found are old, incomplete, and above all, Quintisson work. There may be omissions, inconsistencies, or even outright lies. If nothing else, Cybertronians have evolved since those records were made. They are geared towards non-transforming slaves, not full-fledged warriors like our new parents there."

He called for any citizens of Earth or Cybertron who wanted to help in some way to volunteer. They would need teachers, care-givers, and the like to begin training...to begin working out what kind of training was needed! Everything from living quarters to medical centers would need modifying and expanding to accommodate the needs of the next generation. Equipment to read the new sparks' schematics and build their first shell accordingly had to be designed and built. First Aid and Perceptor already had a basic prototype for this in the works (so they claimed... actually they had full-blown blue-prints from the other dimension) but they would need more than one in a hurry.

Hotlines were set up for volunteers of all sorts.

Arcee and Springer were hammered with shameless questions about their "fateful interfacing" even after Optimus promised reporters that the medical personnel had already received full details on the triggering process.

About the point Rodimus (sitting on stage behind Optimus, looking as vapid and delighted as he could manage) saw Springer fingering an invisible blaster that was really one quick call to sub-space away, the young Prime decided it was time to give the couple a break. Standing up (rudely, many thought) in the middle of a line of questioning about how many times a week Springer and Arcee were intimate, Rodimus ushered the pair off-stage.

"Sorry folks, but we were warned not to let our new mommy get over-tired," he said cheerfully. Actually he was more worried about Springer blowing a circuit or someone's head off. Arcee was mostly ignoring the hub-bub and seemed quite content. He steered the triple-changer away from the over-zealous reporters.

Outrage poured after Rodi, which he smiled and waved at as if he thought it was applause. Behind the scenes things got a bit quieter.

"Thanks Rodimus," Springer said, leaning his head back on a wall and dimming his optics. "I was getting ready to lose it."

"I know. You'll get used to it in a hurry," Rodimus said.

"They were getting a bit personal," Arcee remarked as she squeezed Springer's hand.

"Don't answer a single question that crosses the line Arcee," Rodimus ordered sternly. "Those guys out there saying they have a right to know are full of slag. They get their answers from the medical report. End of story. If you crack even once they will hound you. I'm sweeping you and your quarters for hidden cameras from now on."

"You think they'd go so far as to...." Springer growled.

"Not most of them, but enough. Or haven't you seen how Earth celebrities are treated?" Rodimus asked.

"This isn't Earth..." Arcee said. Then she stopped. She and Springer were due back at Metroplex in only a few days.

"It doesn't matter. The Paradronian news crews are modeling themselves after the paparazzi. I can't really up your security guys, it's already the best we have, but I am gonna give you a full-time VISIBLE body-guard. Don't forget that Metroplex is Cybertronian territory. Our laws...not theirs. You broadcast THAT to anyone going overboard. I don't want a diplomatic crisis, but any reporter invading your privacy is gonna find themselves in lock-up 'cause *I* am the jury of their friggin' peers," Rodimus growled, optics flaring.

Arcee snickered. "You'll damage your rep. as the happy Prime," she teased him.

"There's nothing in my rep. that says I don't stand up for my friends, and my out-of-control temper is well rehearsed too," Rodimus said, optics not softening at all. "Honestly though I doubt it will come to that. Arcee my sweet, you had the heart of just about every Autobot when you were our only lady. They loved you then, they love you now, and if anything I'm gonna have fights over who's gonna be your body-guard first. You may have to put a smack down on some of our guys going over-board, but I doubt you'll have too many unwanted visitors."

Rodimus was right about that. She didn't have many unwanted visitors that first week. Just one. One was enough.

x  
x  
x

Optimus Prime went on answering questions with First Aid and Elita for about two hours after Springer and Arcee were ushered to safety. Those on stage were glad Rodimus had gotten the couple out of the way, but the rude and embarrassing questions continued - they were just aimed at Optimus Prime.

As if he knew what positions his City Commanders took when they were joined.

Boy he was feeling that headache now.

When Rodimus appeared back on stage behind Optimus he didn't quite get booed, until Optimus started swaying ever so slightly on his feet a while later. Elita threw Rodimus a shocked and fearful look but Rodi was already up. He threw his arm around Optimus' shoulders in what looked like a friendly gesture to the crowd.

Optimus leaned his weight on Rodi's arm gratefully until the stage quit shifting under his feet.

"Well friends and neighbors," Rodimus sang, "I'm sure we could go on talking all night, but really I think it's time for a party, don't you?"

This time the reporters' jeers at his interference were drowned out by cheers from the general audience.

"Wave," he whispered to Optimus, who had just enough coherence left to comply. They waved at the audience. Rodimus went so far as to wink and blow a few kisses at some of the femmes, and then he steered Optimus off the podium and backstage.

x  
x  
x

Most of Cybertron took Rodimus' light suggestion as an order. There was dancing in the streets for a full 48 hours after the Primes stepped off-stage.

As soon as they got out of sight of the cameras, Optimus collapsed and went into stasis lock. He felt Rodi's strong hands lowering him to the floor...he heard Elita calling his real name...then he was spinning into some sort of disjointed delirium.

x  
x  
x

Scant moments later, in Central's hidden med-bay, Elita was scandalizing First Aid's sensibilities. She sat cross-legged on his exam table with her mate's head in her lap. First Aid's one suggestion that she move was met with such a fierce glare the medic was instinctively frightened.

Ratchet unhelpfully informed First Aid that the Elita in his home dimension had done the same thing for millennia and would only move if she really was impeding a procedure.

Rodimus prowled the room. First Aid knew from experience it was best just to stay out of his way, especially if he had gone all quiet on you.

"I really can't find anything wrong," First Aid explained.

"It's the compulsions," Rodimus snarled. "Lancer worried Sigma might have included a destruct sequence in anyone who broke them when I got sick. I was in human form though so maybe that made a difference. The headache was REALLY bad, but I don't know if that's just a normal result of breaking those blocks or if there was something more sinister going on."

Elita said nothing to either of them. She just murmured to her mate.

"Did it knock you out?" First Aid asked. He could find no medical cause for Optimus Prime's unconsciousness.

"I went to sleep, but only because they made me do it. I didn't faint. I was out a long time though, so maybe we shouldn't worry. Optimus surely has more implants and they were imbedded longer so maybe it's inevitable that he sleep. On the other hand, maybe that means we should worry."

Magnus ran in. He wasn't silent, but his feet were way quieter than they should have been.

"Arcee and Springer are safe at home and under guard. You were right. I had volunteers for the next three days and had to remind people their regular shifts still matter. How's Optimus?"

Rodimus just frowned.

"If he dies, I'm going down to kill that thing no matter what you say," Magnus vowed.

"If he dies you'll have to beat me there," Rodimus said.

Elita looked up sharply. "It's mine!" she snarled, "and so is anyone who gets in my way!"

Rodimus quirked up an eyebrow and a bitter smile. He nodded at his partner's mate. Magnus just grimaced and backed down.

Elita glared at both of them a moment and subsided back into muttering to Optimus.

Magnus took over the job of pacing the floor, so Rodimus found a chair and somehow perched on the back of it like a sullen, flame-covered gargoyle.

First Aid ran more fruitless tests and was at least gratified Ratchet couldn't think of anything either.

"He's weakening," Elita said, looking at her mate's vital signs.

"Optimus you'd better not be planning on cashing out," Rodimus grumbled to the air. "That'd spoil everybody's day. Not to mention being a bad omen for our new parents given all those superstitious buggers out there."

CONTINUED IN PART C


	3. Chapter 3

Maelstrom Chapter 35  
The Longest Night

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex. Rated M for adult themes! **

**  
Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine. Critiques adored!  
**

**Maelstrom Chapter 35  
The Longest Night  
**

Part C

CONTINUED FROM PART B

Optimus was in no place to worry about omens.

He had other things on his mind...or rather...in his mind.

Centipedes.

Centipedes in his mind.

Was that what this was? This plain of circuits and memories? His mind? If so it was positively infested with multi-legged alien bugs of various sizes. All sharp silver metal and wires, scuttling like lighting over the surface and down. Gleaming, segmented predators with needles for feet that left pin-pricks of agony behind each violating step. Cutting into his mind with long, curved pincers so they could burrow in.

He'd see one....chase it...only to have it slip its flat, knife-like body under the surface of the circuits. Digging at the spot yielded nothing but pain. How could he separate these things from his thoughts when they disguised themselves as his thoughts?

When is what you think not really what you think? How do you think it through when what you think isn't really your thinking?

How much of his thinking was truly his own?

Would he ever know?

Could he live with not knowing?

Did it matter?

Was he going mad?

Could he function mad, like Rodimus did?

Could the Autobots live with two insane Primes?

Who could replace either of them...without going mad?

If the Matrix bearers couldn't bear it who could?

.....

Besides...the Matrix hadn't spoken to him. No one else was Chosen.

Chosen.

The Matrix was mostly void now.

Could it even still Choose?

No one left in there. Just the primary consciousness Optimus only suspected existed, but could never prove, a tiny bit of Rodimus...and himself.

Himself.

And who was that?

He was Optimus Prime, Autobot leader. The guy with the centipedes digging holes in his mind.

Now that was sure a big help.

How much of his mind was his own? Was his mind ever his own?

Yes.

When?

When.

When...he was...

He was.

Orion Pax.

Orion Pax was clean.  
Squeaky.

Who was Orion Pax?  
No one.

Except to himself. Except, maybe, to Ariel.

When had that changed? When had the...infestation started?

"You...you monster!" Ariel's body on the ground. She hadn't been afraid. Wrong. She'd been plenty afraid, just not paralyzed with fear.

He saw Megatron's face again...new. New to him. New to everyone. Not the eternal enemy yet. Not the single Transformer Optimus understood before all others...except Elita. .... Maybe not even Elita.

Megatron had seemed a monster. Orion had meant what he said. He had shaken this monster's hand, now that hand had killed Orion's hoped-for mate.

And Megatron had killed Ariel, just as he would now kill Orion Pax. Neither of them would ever again walk the world. Two new beings would be born in their places, but Orion and Ariel had passed that day.

Orion's last act was to try to kill Megatron.

It was a sincere effort, born out of what he thought was love for Ariel.

He had jumped, recklessly, at Megatron. At evil.

"No you don't Megatron!" Wrong voice. Same result.

Was it love that made him jump? Maybe. Just a spark of it though, like the unborn spark within Arcee now. Potential love might be more accurate. All the elements were there, but the feeling wasn't ready to stand up and walk yet. Certainly it was not the indomitable thing it would become as Elita grew ever wiser, ever stronger, ever more incredible in his optics over time and war and loss.

Nevertheless it was enough to send weaponless, clueless Orion against the foe he would lock horns with for the next millions of years with every intention of killing Megatron bare handed.

Then he died.

Idiot.

The next thing he knew he was coming to slowly in Alpha Trion's workshop. His body felt odd, his head odder.

There was a noise...like humming. Not in his audios...in his head.

The humming sounded....pleased.

"What? Who?" he had asked intelligently.

The older robot next to him was holding something in his hands. The humming grew louder as Optimus stared (for he was already Optimus, he just didn't know it yet.)

"I am Alpha Trion. This is the Autobot Matrix of Leadership. It is calling for you. You are its new bearer. It has Chosen you."

"What?" Optimus said again.

The older robot shook his head. Alpha Trion would tell Optimus later that this confusion was pretty normal in new Primes. He'd seen it before in Nova and Sentinel as the Matrix took hold.

"It has rebuilt you, my young friend. You are not who you were. Look at yourself. Your body is a warrior's now. The Matrix reshapes its bearer to suit itself, but I don't think you should tell anyone you have it for now. The Decepticons think it is lost or destroyed. Keeping it secret will be to your advantage. It gave you the strength to survive your wounds and I repaired them for you. We can blame your new body on me. What is your name?"

"My...my name is...Or...." Confusion stalled his answer.

My name is Orion Pax he thought, but a new voice whispered to him.

Optimus Prime...you are Optimus Prime... the Matrix informed him.

"I am Optimus Prime," he answered Trion.

The older bot had nodded and placed the gem and its casing into his hands. He felt what was needed and placed it within, into his heart.

It was like an old friend. Guiding. Helping....and at that moment he sought out Megatron with eager vengeance. He would stop the Decepticon. Permanently. When had he lost that resolve to just...finish it?

Too bad he didn't have more experience.  
Too bad his future friends the Arielbots couldn't stay.  
Too bad more seasoned soldiers like Kup and Ironhide hadn't sought him out yet.  
Too bad he didn't yet have the skill to finish what he set out to do.  
Too bad the Matrix couldn't protect him from the centipedes.

Somewhere in those first, awkward years Vector Sigma had blunted his resolve. It was easy, it had said. He was eager to be blunted. He didn't like killing. It wasn't his nature.

The Autobots were always on defense anyway.  
No real warriors versus Megatron's legions of brutes.  
It was always cut and run. Escape. Recruit. Cover the others. Thwart Megatron's goals but don't engage. We can't hold out against them.

Optimus and Elita had often wondered how they'd survived as long as they did. It had seemed a miracle.

Now Optimus knew. Megatron had his own centipedes to contend with. They weren't wiped out because Megatron wasn't allowed to wipe them out. Just as Optimus wasn't allowed to go on the offensive.

The Autobot ranks had built up slowly. Volunteers from among the victims.

But they were too inexperienced.  
Their training improved.  
We aren't strong enough.

Ultra Magnus was born from Kai's despair. Forged by Vector Sigma, Optimus now knew, to stiffen Prime's resolve when it needed help. Magnus took over training the newest recruits and a real army started to congeal out of the ranks of volunteers.

But...  
We are the Autobots. Autobots don't kill.

Did those within the Matrix know he was tampered with?  
Optimus doubted it.

After all, they were creations of Vector Sigma too. Optimus doubted it could reach them or influence them within the Matrix, but surely they were used to that evil touch just as he was.

The real soldiers among his people sometimes grew frustrated with him. Magnus and he had words many times.

And Ironhide. Kup.

Wheeljack would get furious now and then over all the repair work he had to do that interrupted his projects. Ratchet's fury was over the pain he couldn't always defeat.

Elita threatened to take command if he didn't start taking some definitive action... then suddenly dropped the issue. Mostly.

That always happened. They all dropped the issue.

Optimus was Chosen.  
He stayed in command.

Centipedes in the minds of his people. He should have been replaced, acting as he was. Or rather, NOT acting as he was.

Cybertron was always in chaos. Other space-faring races gave it wide berth - just as Vector Sigma wanted.

And every so often, a pulse from the Matrix. Disappointment.  
The war dragged. Energon grew scarce. Neutrals and soldiers starved to death.

A new resolve. Find energon. Go.  
Leave Cybertron to Magnus.  
Leave Elita.  
Leave her behind.

She was getting too strong. Her mind and will were hardening as his could not. She was pushing too hard for a solution, and Vector Sigma found her hard to control. Loyalty to her troops, compassion for their people... she couldn't let the matter rest... and he listened to her.

So she was parted from him to weaken them both.

He found the thought that led up to his turning his back on her. She was too small for such a voyage. Too weak. Leave her - for her own good.

"It's too dangerous! We will return for you as soon as we need!"

I always need you Elita.

She was stronger than he was in so many ways.

He found it then. An old and useless thing. No longer strong. No longer relevant. An implant dying under the force of his love for her. The centipede lay half-buried in his thoughts, greyish, dull, and rotting. It stirred slightly as he contemplated it, and he felt a dim and childish need to hide his mate away "for her own good."

Idiot.

Crush that thought. Kill it. She gives you surges with her courage and strength. You love her for it. Her own good indeed. How utterly condescending. Amazing she forgave you for it.

The arrogance died easily. It was so decayed it fell apart in his hand. Rodimus was right. Removing these things felt good even as the pain increased. Even if parts of his mind were left bleeding life away.

The Ark's crash landing on Earth was nothing Vector Sigma could have controlled or predicted. Optimus, Megatron, and many of the major pawns from both sides were lost to Vector Sigma.

Aw.

And building up new armies took so much time and resources.

Earth had its own side-effects.

After each battle...the generals, the presidents, the police, and the mothers on the street.... "Why? Why don't you stop them for GOOD Optimus Prime?"

Autobots don't do that.

But...it made sense that they were asking.  
So fragile.  
So short lived. They don't understand. They don't have time.

The war was killing so many. Autobots don't kill. ... Do we let others be killed? They have so little time...

The schism in his mind was so obvious now. How could he not have noticed? His own honest need to protect Earth's residents went to war with his compulsion to let the war drag on and on.

He remembered Ironhide threatening to assault him as he and the Autobots nearly rode their honor into the sun after the Berger incident. Was leaving Earth undefended more honorable? Leaving billions unprotected was better? And the time he had let the Dinobots fight Devastator unaided after losing the duel with Megatron.... And, and, and...

"Let them go..." Over and over. "Let them go."

When was honor just an excuse for doing nothing? When real lives were at stake, could it be...dishonorable?

Magnus had resurfaced on Cybertron and rejoined them with a vengeance. Screaming at Optimus in the depths of the Arc shortly after coming to Earth for the first time was one of his first moves.

"You mean to tell me the only offensive assault on Decepticon headquarters here was made by CARLY WITWICKY? A human child?"

Magnus was right. That made no sense whatsoever.  
Let them go?  
Maybe that should change.  
Change.  
Change was coming.

Find the invader. Time for you to go little buggy! Let them go? I want Rodimus to let the slavers go! Why? So they can harm different little children? No. Not anymore! They must be stopped - at ANY cost! If it costs us our very souls then so be it! We are the Primes! We don't get to hold anything of ourselves in reserve. Rodimus sees it - he kills them. And I punish him for it! No more! No more letting them go!

This time the centipede was larger and it tried to bite him, but he stepped on it and twisted his foot around until it collapsed and squirted greenish ichor all over the place.

Ugh. Ouch. That mess is in my mind. That mess IS my mind.  
Maybe...maybe now I can change.

Change.  
Change was coming.  
The next Chosen was coming.

Access to Earth's power and resources made new warriors a possibility and a priority. Vector Sigma grew busy, replacing those that were lost over the years. Among its new Autobot children were the Arielbots, the Protectobots, Arcee, Springer, Metroplex's consciousness, Blurr, and Hot Rod.

Optimus Prime was there for each of them when they came online. His was nearly always the first face they registered with their new optics. He hoped they liked it.

He liked what he saw in each of them.

But Hot Rod...the Matrix liked that one too, right from the start.

The new Autobot had lit his optics, declared his name, smiled that impetuous smile all in the same instant.

And the Matrix had purred into Optimus' mind. Just for a second.

It was so brief Optimus almost forgot it in the first years of Hot Rod's life. The war with Megatron was going badly on some fronts, better on others. Earth was growing more defensible, but they lost Cybertron completely in the process. Hot Rod himself made it easy to forget. It was hard to picture the boy succeeding Optimus when Hot Rod couldn't stay out of mischief longer than a day or two.

Nothing major...just...impulsive.

Like Orion. Jumping into things.  
"You monster!" I'll kill you! I swear I will!

The Matrix had liked Orion.  
It liked Hot Rod.  
Maybe...maybe he should change.

On the moonbase, shortly before he died again, he was thinking about change. Time to start listening to Magnus and Elita. Time to give the humans what they were demanding.

Time to go on the offensive.

Vector Sigma had confirmed it. At that moment, it had decided to get rid of Optimus Prime. Prime was slipping out of control.

Sigma took the leash off Megatron.

Autobots paid with their lives. Bluestreak. Brawn. Prowl. Ironhide. Ratchet. Most of his team...his friends! Ah...but they were those who were most heavily influenced by Earth.

Optimus went into a killing rage the likes of which he hadn't felt since Ariel was shot.

The battle was brief, and for perhaps the first time since the tussle with Orion and Megatron it was completely sincere. Optimus and Megatron were both unchained and they weren't pulling their punches....but Optimus Prime wasn't a dock worker any more...and he threw Megatron down.

Aim the rifle.

Pull the trigger.

Come on Orion! Where are you when I need you?

Finish it!  
I...  
I...  
I can't.  
Autobots don't.

Optimus remembered struggling with himself. He thought of the people just lost, and the people yet to be lost in this never-ending war. His finger trembled around the trigger.

"Monster!"

Would he have done it? Could he have broken that control and finished it?

FINISH him! Optimus realized it was hard for him to even think of the word "kill."

Kill it. Kill the implant. Oh but it's a deep one. Deep.

He would never know if he would have done it. His hesitation cost him time. Megatron had reached for the hidden blaster and Hot Rod had leapt.

"No you don't Megatron!"  
"Monster!"  
Impulsive. Brave. Decisive. Chosen.

And in the way.

Damn it all.

Who am I?

"Optimus...forgive me," Hot Rod had said.

Forgive you? Who's asking who for forgiveness here? So young... The Matrix... don't you hear it? Don't you know what I just sentenced you to? I should have fired!

Guilt flared in Hot Rod's optics.

Guilt left Optimus mute to answer him

Give the Matrix to Magnus. He's the only choice.  
But...  
Give the Matrix to Magnus. He's the only choice.

Centipede.

It clamped its legs into the surface of his mind; holding on in spite of its complete irrelevance. Some part of him still wished Magnus could have held on to the Matrix just a little longer. He wished Hot Rod could have lived just a few more years. Not even a vorn... too young to die... even at the request of the Matrix. The grief was over-whelming. So many of them thought Hot Rod had killed him. They would never know it was the other way around.

Rip it out. The legs popped out of his mind like a zipper...one set at a time. Pop, pop, pop, pop.....Ouch. Little pools off life-force filled up the holes where the legs were, and then overflowed, and joined together....

He had given the Matrix to Magnus. Vector Sigma knew about Hot Rod, wanted Magnus. It wanted someone it thought it could control.

Control Magnus? Hah! He's really under control now! You were better off with me you stupid piece of slag!

Give the Matrix to Magnus. He's the only choice.

Maybe, if he could have resisted, if he could have given Hot Rod the succession at the moment of his death, it would have alleviated some of the doubt in both Hot Rod and the Autobots. It wouldn't have ever been easy, but it might have been easier.

Or rather, harder for Vector Sigma to plant young Rodimus with his own crop of centipedes.

He's only twenty Earth years old. Optimus had told himself instead. He's not ready! Magnus can carry it for him for a while.

Idiot....but at least he got a break.

He was revived against his will. Let this farce end already!  
Quintissons. They were monsters too. Orion would have very much liked to kill them as well, but Optimus fought with Rodimus instead.

Who's the monster now?  
Died again. About slagging time.  
Revived again.

No. Really. Enough already. Four times is a bit ridiculous.

But it stuck this time. He was back.

This time was different though.

Rodimus dumped the Matrix and the job back into Optimus' lap with deceptive glee...falling victim to his own centipedes. Vector Sigma didn't like him. Even with Kup and Magnus "steering" him the young Prime had a lot of influence coming from his time on Earth. In some ways he thought more like a human and was hard for Sigma to control.

So Hot Rod was back too. Sure. The dead did a lot of walking these days.

Idiots. Both of them.

Optimus couldn't return to Cybertron. Elita was missing. He let others be his hands there. Vector Sigma's hold must have slipped some then. Some.

The Matrix was empty and he told himself the faint surges of pain he felt from it when Hot Rod was around didn't mean anything. It took something dramatic to clue him in, like a slap in the face.

Galvatron ripped Hot Rod's innards out...and Hot Rod smiled, hoping to be as dead on the outside as he was on the inside. It came to that before Optimus got his head out of his tailpipe. Idiot. He knew how that felt.

The partnership changed things.

THEY were changing things. The two of them together did what neither could do alone.

Out-think the centipedes. When we fight our ideas...when we wrestle them together...we defeat the enemies inside and out. I act more decisively and you believe in a molecule of self-worth. Rodimus...I think we may have made a miracle there.

Vector Sigma had confessed to panicking over the partnership during its interrogation. Optimus remembered Rodimus' smile at that moment. Triumphant.

"We outgrew you Vector Sigma. We beat you then," he whispered. Optimus knew there would be no sweeter victory for Rodimus than this, but for Optimus it was hollow.

He might have won back then, but Vector Sigma's controls had wormed their way back into Optimus' mind.

Somewhere between his torture and his mind-link Rodimus had shattered Sigma's control. In doing so he also violated the worst of his partner's compulsions.

Autobot's don't.

Autobot's don't kill. They don't assassinate. They don't hunt their enemies down like a wolves on a blood trail. Autobot's don't kill.

Or...

"Monster!" I'll kill you! I swear I will!

So deep....  
Autobot's don't!  
Autobot's don't!  
Autobot's don't! Well...they don't want to...  
But if they HAVE to?

Rip it out...so very deep...but if Autobot's have to...they may not want to...but if they have to...Autobots will kill. Even if it's a thought invading their brain.

Optimus reached for the alien implant...this one was different though. Strong. This one fought back.

It reared up high over his head, huge in his imagination, and making use of his symbolic label of a centipede. The idea clamped its venomous pincers into his already wounded sense of self. The poison... guilt, disillusionment, and despair. Prime's blinding idealism fought him. His inflexible morality and sense of honor fought him. Vector Sigma fought him.

Killing - wrong.  
Yes.  
But faced with a choice of evils...sometimes.  
Autobots don't...shouldn't...DON'T!

Optimus fought back. Not this time! This time my mind is my own! I believe in those things but not at ANY cost! Letting more die is too high a price for keeping my hands clean!

Catch the centipede. Squeeze it. This is MY mind, and I have a right to that if nothing else! I am the Chosen of the Matrix! You had no right to change what I was...what they Chose!

It bit him, fought him, tried to wrap its multitude of legs around him and into him. Its tail end sunk into the surface of his mind for traction. It poisoned him over and over, sinking in curved scimitar fangs into his soul all the way to the root.

He dug his fingers in and squeezed.

It writhed violently, pummeling him. They tumbled together, rolling and wrapped up like obscene lovers.

He crushed his fingers into it.  
It constricted.

It scrabbled dozens of deadly legs against him, into him, cutting trenches of agony into his soul.

It bit.  
It bit.  
It bit.

He held on.

It weakened.

It bit.

His life hemorrhaged out of more wounds than he could classify.

He held on.  
It died.

Oh....now that's some pain. See Rodi? I can take it too. I think I may be dying. My mind is...damaged. I wonder....will I get to stay dead this time?

CONTINUED IN PART D


	4. Chapter 4

Maelstrom Chapter 35  
The Longest Night

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex. Rated M for adult themes! **

**  
Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine. Critiques adored!  
**

**Maelstrom Chapter 35  
The Longest Night**

Part D

CONTINUED FROM PART C

In Med-Lab, First Aid couldn't even scurry. He watched incredulously as Optimus Prime's internal temperature rose by ten degrees...twenty degrees...thirty degrees...all in the space of a few seconds.

There was no cause the medic could find for either Prime's unconsciousness nor this depleting surge in energon, but he already had the senior Prime on as fast an energy feed as Optimus' fuel lines could take. First Aid was pouring power into Optimus at a desperate pace, but Optimus was burning through it even faster.

"He's going to burn out if we can't stop it!" First Aid cried. "If he doesn't suffer complete depletion first! I don't know what to do! The surge and the drain require opposite treatments!"

"It's a self- destruct sequence First Aid," Rodimus intoned. His voice was emotionless, cold. "You aren't meant to be able to save him."

Elita screamed, not in panic or in fear, but in fury. She whipped her head around and locked optics with Rodimus.

"Can you feel him? Can you feel him through the Matrix link?!"

Rodimus shook his head. "E, you know I've cut myself off from it..."

"Once a Prime, always a Prime," she told him ferociously. "Don't tell me you can't. You won't!"

Rodimus looked distressed. "Elita he hates me. If I invade him, I might just make it worse."

"How can you say such a thing? Optimus never hated anyone!" Elita hissed vehemently.

"I guess I'm just special then," Rodimus said in despair. "Between that and anything he might ...pick up from me I'm not sure it's a good idea."

"HE doesn't hate you. If anything in there hates you it's Vector Sigma! Help him damn you!" Elita growled. Her optics flared.

Rodi sighed and nodded in resignation, but that was as far as he got.

Rodimus suddenly gasped and clutched at his audios as if hearing a shrill noise. He nearly toppled off of his feet and startled everyone in the quiet room.

"Rodimus? What?!" Magnus managed.

"The Matrix!" Rodimus gasped. He hadn't felt that touch in so long... so long...it felt like...the greeting of an old friend.

Missed you. How ya been? But it asked for something too. He consented automatically and felt suddenly drained. Grey, he sank to his knees, clutching at the side of Optimus' exam table to keep from collapsing to the floor.

Optimus knew he was dying...and only wished he could speak to his partner one last time...to maybe undo the pain he'd caused. For his Elita, Optimus knew, no words would be needed, but Rodimus should know Optimus regretted being Vector Sigma's weapon of choice.

For the first time, Optimus regretted the death that was coming.

There was a pulse then. A flash of energy. For an instant he felt touched by hands on all sides - helping him. Holding him up. Rodimus. Not the assassin - the Matrix shade! Someone else too. Who? Who?

.......

Who am I?

I'm Orion Pax. I'm the Chosen of my generation. You can call me Optimus Prime if you must...but whatever you call me, it's time to get some work done around here.

Elita cried out and grabbed Rodimus by the shoulders, "is he...?"

Rodimus shook his head. "No! He's not leaving. The Matrix... It's... it's humming?" The "noise" stopped almost at once.

"It's happy," came a very low, very weak explanation.

"ORION!" Elita shouted.

"ow. don't. my head," Optimus said.

"Are you alright?" Elita demanded. The question sounded a bit like a threat. If he wasn't alright, he was in trouble for sure.

"Head hurts...had to do some house-cleaning. Bugs in the system," Optimus said. He laughed weakly to himself.

"House-cleaning? More implanted compulsions?" Rodimus asked compassionately.

"Yes. Quite a few. That's why the Matrix is happy. My mind is my own again," Optimus said. "It stopped the self-destruct sequence Rodimus. It saved me. You...saved me. It will be easier now...for all of us."

His optics smiled at them, and then he fell into normal recharge mode and rested for 14 hours.

Rodimus sighed, tried to stand, and failed miserably. Elita and Magnus pulled him to his feet, and for once he didn't protest when they dragged him, literally, to the recharger.

While the Primes took naps, things got interesting all over Cybertron.  
x  
x  
x

Some people quit celebrating only to find they weren't as excited about the idea of offspring as they first thought. Some found they could hardly wait to get started. A few didn't wait to get started even though the full details for causing a fertile joining hadn't been released yet. Imaginative experiments caused a upsurge in injuries at regional med-centers. These ranged from innocuous dents and scratches, to embarrassing mid-transformational glitches, to down-right dangerous over-doses of high-grade energon and other chemicals.

Some people got busy planning nurseries, schools, and toys. Some just got busy. Some went into manic research mode. Some just went plain old manic.

A few went really crazy.

Here and there were pockets of resistence. Some Paradronians and even a few humans carried signs protesting an alternative to Vector Sigma. (The humans were incensed the Autobots were usurping 'their' original sin. Or something like that.)

Most of these were shamed off the street by celebrating neighbors.

"What's the matter with you? No one is MAKING you start a spark! Just giving you the option!"

Some persisted. Persisted and found each other. Found each other and unified in outrage and fear of change. They wandered through the tiring revelers, using their anger to outlast the others who were merely happy.

One mingled among these like a rabid wolf among barking dogs, his mind a pre-set trap, sprung by the announcements to the medical staff.

Vector Sigma was obsolete.

To the pawn's mind that meant Vector Sigma had already been murdered, since that's what Sigma itself expected from many promises by the young Prime.

So now this single Autobot became Vector Sigma's vengeance.

First, he sent a signal to Char. Just one specific tone.

Then he stalked amidst the protesters, looking for allies or at least pawns. When asked his name he answered Eclipse, and his new friends had welcomed him. They set up a meeting place right there in the street, with oblivious partiers all around them, showering them with improvised confetti. Then they all went home. Except Eclipse.

He had a home, but he couldn't remember why he would want to go there. His job and his lovely mate had all become immaterial. It was time to prepare - the plan was already set in his mind.

x

x

x

"Is Optimus going to be OK First Aid?" Arcee asked. He was examining her.

"He's going to be fine," the medic assured her. "You look good too by the way...just in case you were wondering."

Of all of them Arcee seemed the most relaxed about her condition.

"Thank the Matrix," she said. "I was worried about him."

"You could spare a thought for yourself and our sparkling," Springer griped.

"Oh...I feel fine. Wonderful actually," Arcee grinned. "If it stays like this, I may be tempted to have a dozen youngsters I feel so good, but our poor leader has been through the wringer."

"Rodimus says it's Op's turn to put up with me," First Aid snickered. The senior Prime was stuck in the next room, forbidden to leave until the last remnants of his headache left first. He was handling it with the same good humor his partner did under similar circumstances. The sound of his pacing feet penetrated into the exam room.

"Rod is gonna get what's coming to him sooner or later," Springer grinned. "So I take it the boss is wearing a hole through the floor?"

"Maybe he thinks he can escape that way," First Aid remarked dryly. "You can go though...but I want you back here tonight. The readouts say your spark-to-be is about fifteen percent integrated."

"Fifteen?!" Arcee cried, clapping. "Didn't Ratchet say I could find out if it was male or female at twelve percent?"

"Yes, he did," First Aid said neutrally.

"Oh boy!" Springer said.

They both looked at First Aid expectantly.

"Well?" Springer finally prompted.

"Well what?" First Aid replied.

"Well....well? OK fine...serves me right doesn't it? What IS it?" Springer demanded.

"It's a girl," First Aid grinned.

They both whooped, hugged each other, and then froze. There had been an extra voice in their shout of joy.

First Aid went over to the isolation lab and opened the door, hands on hips.

"You are spying on my medical exam, Optimus Prime," he said sternly.

"Very sorry. I couldn't help but overhear," Prime said with great dignity. He looked about as sorry as a cat with its face in a milk glass. "However, now that I know, is it still a secret...or can I rub my partner's nose in the fact I know first?"

The City Commanders looked at each other. On the one hand this was news they were hoping to break themselves. On the other, it was amazing to hear Optimus speaking about Rodi with amusement in his voice instead of icicles.

Springer arched one eyebrow at his mate. She smiled and he smiled back at her.

"Go ahead Optimus, you can tell him!" Arcee said. Her heart, already soaring, somehow rose anyway.

"Oh, I'm not going to tell him! I'm just going to tell him I know! That'll show him," Optimus said in a self satisfied tone. He laughed.

"Ooo...that's an evil sound," Springer said with something like wonder. "I didn't know he could laugh like that. He's...he's different."

"He's been under Vector Sigma's control since long before any of us were activated," First Aid said gravely. "I'm not sure we've met him yet."

They thanked First Aid and left, meeting their current bodyguard (Blitzwing) in the hall. It was no surprise their com-lines both flared to life a few minutes later.

"OK! Give! What is it?" Rodimus voice asked frantically.

They laughed and cut the line.

That was a good thing too, because it set Rodimus off and running after them, but by the time he got down to that level, they were gone.  
x  
x  
x

"LOCK DOWN EVERYTHING! Get me the footage from every camera in Central and tell me where the hell they are! I want all non-essential personnel down in the lobby NOW! Tell everyone in the building if they aren't down there to account for themselves I will assume they're involved!" Rodimus roared. The whole room rang when his fist hit the wall. The rest of Central seemed to pick up the sound as the alarms went off and every entrance and exit to the building sealed itself in under five seconds.

Rodimus was in what was passing for the new command center scaring the circuits out of Blaster, Cosmos, Inferno, and Boa. The males reflected with shock it had been a long time since this side of "the happy Prime" had reared its ugly head. For Boa it was a unique and enlightening experience - she'd never seen him do anything that merited his rank.

Cosmos scanned through surveillance footage of the couple and Blitzwing leaving the restricted areas in Central and heading for their quarters. They were mobbed as soon as they hit a public area - reporters, well-wishers, protesters, and the like.

Blitzwing made good use of his shady past and was able to scowl most of the crowd back a few paces. Springer's expression was a twin for the ex-Con's, only less patient. The footage showed Arcee calmly laying a hand on her mate and getting him to pose for a few reporters. Her smile was pleasant and genuine. His looked like someone was twisting his internal cables.

A few of the crowd had medical badges and were seen asking Arcee some technical questions. Most seemed enthusiastic and nervous, but Rodimus noted six in the crowd who seemed just plain nervous....and one who looked...

He looks like a Convert...but he isn't! No scanners were tripped. He's an Autobot, but man those optics sure are emotionless...

Rodimus heard Ultra Magnus come up behind him but didn't turn around. Neither said a word...they just watched as the dead-faced medic looked straight up at the cameras... Rodi's hidden, top secret cameras... and smiled.

The hallway went dark for about two seconds before the auxiliary lights came on automatically, but then the cameras went dead too.

"How long ago was this?" Magnus asked. His voice was calm, professional, but Rodimus heard the volcano underneath.

"About five minutes," Rodimus said.

"They were deep within Central when they took them...they can't have gotten out before you sealed the building," Magnus said.

"We hope," Rodimus growled. "Blaster! We need Steel Jaw. Let's go."  
x  
x  
x

Back at the med-center First Aid had about thirty seconds to wonder what was going on when the alarms sounded, when another problem presented itself.

Optimus Prime was heading for the door.

First Aid moved as only an ambulance could to block Prime's path.

"You can't go!" he insisted.

Optimus didn't say a word. He picked First Aid up by the sides of his arms, lifted, and set the stymied medic off to one side. He stepped out, transformed, and was gone.

"Well," Ratchet said, "that was effective!"

First Aid shot the holographic doctor an annoyed look.

"Don't be like that Aid!" Ratchet laughed. "He does that in my dimension too. That famous temper runs through the whole A3 Line!"

"He has a temper here too, but you don't see it much," First Aid said. "He did deliver a criminal to the Russians strapped to the nose of a jet once though. I'm going to see what I can do down there. Hold the fort Ratchet!"

He sped off.

Ratchet looked around the med-lab, wishing he could at least straighten things up. Since he couldn't he made mental notes of things that could be improved or streamlined. There was precious little to criticize - this lab was several decades more advanced than he was used to, and bits of Maelstrom technology were filtering in. Still, he needed something to do and told himself it was a challenge. The lights were attached to motion detectors and after a minute or two they shut down. His translucent form wasn't enough to reactivate them so he stood, alone in the darkened lab, practicing swear words he learned from Sparkplug.

Then he shut himself down in frustration.

Nothing to do but wait.  
He didn't have to wait long.

x  
x  
x

Rodimus , Magnus, and Blaster followed Steeljaw's bounding form down to where Arcee and Springer were last seen. Frantic on-lookers and foaming reporters were still on scene. Rodimus questioned a few he had seen in the video, but they were frazzled and contradicted each other. He sighed in disgust, familiar with this response in human victims after a Decepticon encounter. Stress did odd things to their brains and memories. He didn't realize Paradronians were similarly vulnerable.

Rodi wanted to be patient, but with Arcee's life on the line, strangling these idiots was pretty tempting. Fortunately for the bystanders Steel Jaw only needed a few heartbeats to sort Springer and Arcee's scent out from the kaleidoscope of over-lapping smells.

He took off, followed closely by Blaster and the three senior officers. He traced the trail down one hall, then another. As he ran he pulled away from the bipeds that ran in his wake, until he came to a four way juncture leading down towards the various main sectors of the complex.

There was a small, innocuous canister in front of him, laden with Springer's scent. The cassette paused to investigate and nosed it curiously. Behind him he heard Rodimus shouting to be cautious, but it was too late. The instant his nose made contact the can erupted, spraying acid all over his face. Steeljaw felt huge arms yanking him back for just a moment as he shrieked in agony. Mercifully, the pain overwhelmed his consciousness and he passed out.

Blaster was mute with shock. Some of Steeljaw's pain made it through to him, but mostly it was the horrible sight of the cat's face melting. The cassette lay limp in Rodi's arms. The young Prime had been sprayed a bit himself, but he didn't seem to notice.

Blaster would be grateful later. If Rodi hadn't move so fast, Steeljaw would have had his whole head burned off in seconds.

Magnus summoned First Aid immediately but the ambulance was there even quicker than he should have been. Rodimus laid the smoking body in his arms carefully into First Aid's vehicle mode and told Blaster to transform. Blaster was in too much shock to understand the order, but he was also in no way able to argue. Once he changed, Rodimus put him in the back of First Aid's cramped patient compartment.

First Aid left skid marks behind him and didn't think twice about taking the injured cassette and Blaster up to the classified med-lab. Ratchet had a lot to contribute medically, especially at first when they weren't sure what acid had been used or how to inhibit it, but when it got down to the real hands on work, Ratchet's best skills came into play.

He couldn't help First Aid peel away the scorched housing or dead circuitry. He couldn't set the fabricating equipment to build Steel Jaw a new face, or replace the melted optics, but he could talk to Blaster and the other frightened cassettes.

He could tell them what was happening. He could tell them what might go wrong, and best of all, he could tell them, as the hours passed, that Steel Jaw would be OK...eventually.

x  
x  
x

Back in Rodimus' quarters, behind the sound-proof, blast proof walls, and the special transmission dampening shields, Edana clutched her hands to her head and screamed in anguish. The girl's mother longed to wrap her arms around her child, but the talons Lancer was unable to retract would have cut Edana. The mutant had to settle for letting Edana lean on her... and wrapping her tail around the small, shuddering body.

x  
x  
x

Magnus formed a living blockade against the reporters who tried to follow them into the hall where Steel Jaw was hurt. Rodimus and Optimus were a few hundred feet behind him, scanning the floors and walls with everything from infra-red to ultra-violet to radioactivity levels. From Optimus' grumbling, to Rodimus' ever more deadly silence, Magnus knew they weren't getting anywhere.

"Get out of my way! All of you civilians need to clear out! Go down to the lobby and STAY there!" Elita's clear, strong voice cut through the clamber confronting Magnus.

"You heard her! MOVE!" Ultra Magnus bellowed. Most of them complied, but a few of the more foolish attempted to interview Elita as she pushed through them. They grumbled about Ultra Magnus being "over-restrictive".

Elita's optics narrowed and her weapon materialized from sub-space. "If you don't clear this area in five seconds we will see if you find detention overly restrictive," she said in the sweetest voice she could manage. Her sugary voice and her somewhat demented smile made for an unnerving combination. Those that were immune to Magnus' roar found that the cold fury in Elita's smile did what his bulk could not. Many shuddered with surges.

"Five," Elita purred, "Four, Three, Two.... What do you know. All gone!" She didn't pause to gloat, but ran past Magnus to Optimus' side.

Magnus stomped his way over.

"There's nothing," Optimus said.

"We'll find them," Elita assured her mate. She knew he wouldn't have been more upset if the hostages had been her and their own unborn spark. All of his warriors were his children.

"Jazz reports he's organizing the Autobots searching the area around Central," Rodimus said, "But I have a bad feeling the bad guys still in the building."

"Why? That's a good thing, Rodimus," Elita said.

The young Prime shook his head. "They are invisible to us. They cut out MY security system, and they are hiding under our noses. They know. Our secrecy is compromised. I don't want this to sound like I'm not concerned about Springer's family, but it's a lot worse than just a couple of hostages. They could bring down everything."

They split up and circled out from the acid bomb, but weren't successful in finding any more leads. Perceptor was allowed in through the outside security doors to turn his microscope on the problem, but even his more sensitive detectors couldn't help. They began a room to room search. Given that Central soared two hundred Cybertronian stories above the surface and nearly as many under the surface, they all struggled not to do the math.

x  
x  
x

About an hour later, the first broadcast hit the airwaves all over Cybertron. Earth's networks were immediately patched in by the Paradronians so no one had to miss out on the show.

Arcee was bound to a chair. Springer and Blitzwing were similarly bound and seated on the floor behind her, although Blitz was clearly knocked-out. Energon flowed in a slow trickled from his temple. Springer on the other-hand was struggling ferociously with his bonds. His optics pulsed from over-bright to glaring as he tried to reach his mate.

Something was clearly wrong with Arcee.

Her smooth, rose finish was bubbled up and semi-melted along her left arm and the side of her torso. Her optics were dim and she took in oxygen rapidly to fight over-heating. Clearly in pain as she was, she neither cried out nor rested. She was fighting her bonds as diligently as Springer was. The femme glared at whoever was working the camera.

There were several other Cybertronians in the room with the hostages, but all of them wore medical gear to hide their identities.

Except one.

"My friends, you may refer to me as Eclipse. I am grievously sorry to destroy the hopes our misguided leaders have placed in you. We can only hope they did not misinform us deliberately...."

Watching with Rodimus from the room they had been searching, Magnus said, "Which now means most people will assume we DID mislead them on purpose..."

Eclipse continued in a reasonable, apologetic tone. "...rather that they, in their enthusiasm merely misunderstood what was really happening."

Rodimus growled. "Which means everyone else will figure we're stupid."

The sadly smiling, soothing figure on screen went on. "This poor femme has not conceived a spark. Such a thing is meant for organics, not the likes of us. Vector Sigma has always been the only font of life for our kind. The mis-diagnosis has led to unnecessary pain and chaos for us all. I'm afraid it doesn't matter that I knew at once what was happening. As a highly experienced medic I recognized the symptoms. This is an illness, my friends. An end to life, not a beginning. My only regret is I couldn't stop this tragedy before it involved so many. This femme's delusions are only the first stage. She has contracted a fatal virus that causes mental deterioration first, then structural break down, as you can see. Her mate is also showing early signs of illness, so she has probably passed it to him.

We can only hope, the erratic behavior our dear leaders have shown is merely an honest mistake, rather than signs they are all infected."

Magnus groaned. "Oh he's good. Now we're deceitful, incompetent, AND crazy."

"Yeah," Rodimus said. "Have been for years, but I wonder how he knows."

CONTINUED IN PART E


	5. Chapter 5

Maelstrom Chapter 35  
The Longest Night

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex. Rated M for adult themes! **

**  
Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine. Critiques adored!  
**

**Maelstrom Chapter 35  
The Longest Night**

Part E

CONTINUED FROM PART D

Optimus' booming voice rang through Med-Lab and caused First Aid to drop his welder.

"First Aid! Do you have your broadcast monitor on?"

"I'm a little busy right now Prime!" First Aid snapped. He was trying to reconnect the tiny, myriad nerve circuits from Steel Jaw's cranial circuits back to the sensors in the cassette's intake chambers.

"Turn it on!" Optimus ordered.

"Now isn't the time!" First Aid argued. Pacifist or no, the medic didn't take crap when it came to his patients.

"That's an order First Aid! The kidnappers have Arcee on camera and they've done something to her!"

Rewind moved first and activated the monitor.

x  
x  
x

Arcee's greyish and disfigured form shocked all of them while "Eclipse" went on with his description of the disease she supposedly carried.

First Aid and Ratchet looked at each other.

"Is there really a disease like that?" Rewind asked fearfully.

"Not that I've ever heard of," Ratchet answered grimly. He looked hard at Arcee, trying to diagnose her from the signs she was showing.

"She's over-heated, but that could just be from wanting to kill these creeps," he muttered to himself. "The distorted body armor...now where have I seen something like that before?"

x  
x  
x

The camera feed to outside of Central cut off, but Rodimus got a buzz on his personal com-frequency.

Eclipse's voice came to his audios alone. "Really, my wayward son. You didn't really think I'd just let you dispose of me without retaliating. You may have killed me boy, but you won't rescue your little pregnant femme or your machinations for freedom....believe me you won't."

"Sigma," Rodimus snarled in a whisper. "SIGMA!"

x  
x  
x

Edana wailed inconsolably. To her, it was as if all of Cybertron was shrieking as one.

Lancer sobbed in fury and desperation. There was nothing she could do.  
"Block them out Baby. You can do it! Block them out!"

x  
x  
x

"How can it be Sigma?" Magnus shouted at Rodimus. "We cut it off!"

He didn't get a response, just a glazed stare.

"Rodimus? Hey! What's wrong with you?" Magnus demanded.

"Edana's in pain," Rodimus hissed quietly.

"Edana? How'd she get mixed up in this mess?" Magnus asked. Then he froze, answering his own question. He was upset, Rodimus was upset, Prime, Elita, and probably every Autobot on the planet was upset no matter where they stood on Arcee and her offspring.

And Rodimus' daughter was an antenna for all of it.

"By the Matrix! What can we do for her? The Maelstrom left orbit yesterday!" He was suddenly, perversely glad Marissa was on Earth visiting Doc. The old Joe doctor was serving as Marissa's OB and he refused to come to Cybertron. There was no way Magnus could have kept his wife out of trouble if she'd been here.

"We can end this," Rodimus said. His voice was too calm...too flat. The assassin was taking over. "As for Sigma, we did cut it off. I think this is like a Trojan-horse virus. It set this trap long ago and now we've sprung it on ourselves. It had access to our minds as we were setting up our security Magnus. Hell, it set up our MINDS in the first place! How are we gonna out-think this thing when it knows everything we know?"

"You and I have been cut off for a while," Magnus reminded his leader.

"It still knows how we think. It knew I'd go for Steel Jaw. I got him fried by being predictable," Rodimus stated numbly.

"Now you really are letting it manipulate you! Quit the self-deprecation and THINK! We have to stop being predictable! You're good at that! What can we do that we wouldn't usually do?"

"I...I don't know," Rodimus answered. It was hard to think right now. The evacuated halls of Central were quiet, but through his link the junior Prime was deafened by his daughter's screams.

He flashed. Goldbug was screaming.

"Rodimus!" Magnus cried, knowing that flat stare too well. "Not now!"

Rodi flashed again. Nameless, naked captives screamed. Climbed up on him. Died.

"Rodimus, Arcee needs you! Edana needs you!" Magnus pleaded. Sheer, stupid courage over-ran his common sense, and Major General Magnus grabbed Rodimus left shoulder and shook him hard.

The assassin exploded out of his flashback with the same deadly fury he always did, but Magnus knew exactly which blow was coming and where it would land. He wasn't fast enough to get completely out of the way, but he was able to turn his shoulder into the strike before it reached peak force. It dented his heavy shoulder strut painfully deep, but at least it didn't go through his face.

Rodimus' optics dimmed and flared with surprise.

Neither said anything.

"Let's go," Rodimus finally got out.

Magnus contacted Optimus Prime and gave him an update on Vector Sigma's involvement.

x  
x  
x

Deep in Central, in one of the huge complex's many multi-use offices, Eclipse applied more solvent to Arcee's armor.

He knew the Autobots would evacuate all the civilian workers from this area down to the lobby. He knew they would search methodically floor by floor. He knew he and his little pawns would be found eventually... and he knew it would be too late.

Eclipse used a simple metal rod to dip into the mixture and smear up to Arcee's face from the defect on her shoulder, making it appear as though the "disease" had spread from there. The chemicals he was using were common on Cybertron - one was used for removing encrusted dirt from their body armor and was as common among the Autobots as soap among humans. The other was a medic's chemical - not something a civilian Cybertronian would have laying around their quarters, but not unusual either. It was a powerful fuel line cleaner that dissolved deposits in a Transformer's fuel pump and energon lines. Medics used it on patients mostly for their annual visits or when their fuel efficiency was down.

What was unusual and largely unknown was the compound these two chemicals made when combined. They served such different functions there was not much opportunity for them to come in contact with each other, even by accident. Vector Sigma knew however, and therefore so did Eclipse.

Combined they formed a sticky gel that made a Cybertronian's paint bubble up and eventually softened the metal underneath. The effect was dramatic but slow acting and in the unlikely event any Transformer was exposed to the gel accidentally a quick wipe down or rinse would have been enough to stop the damage.

Arcee was not being exposed accidentally and she was powerless to wipe herself off. The gel was slowly and tortuously eating its way through her paint, her armor, and into her internal systems. The pain increased slowly, minute by agonizing minute. She felt her repair systems straining futilely to keep ahead of the poison and her internal temperature rose with the effort.

She watched in a delirious haze as the first areas Eclipse had applied the gel to a few hours ago started falling through. Melted bits of her body armor traced the gel's path and fell down into the internal works of her arm. These were their own kind of contamination, but worst they carried the gel down to her fuel lines. A chemical meant to heal one's fuel systems was now eating it's way into hers. The holes it caused were almost microscopic, but they were growing...and draining. She felt a more overall burning as well. Tiny amounts of the gel were now going to start circulating through her entire fuel distribution network.

Arcee began shutting down major but technically peripheral systems. If her unborn spark was going to have a chance, she would need to conserve as much energon as she could. She heard Springer calling to her around his gag, but she decided she couldn't spare the power to talk to him.

Springer watched his mate's head fall to her chest and redoubled his trashing against his bonds. When one of the masked kidnappers came close to him, he lunged viciously at them. They jumped and yelped in shock.

"You cowards!" he roared. "You are lower than those yellow-bellied Decepticons!" Of course, with the metal gag around his mouth and jaw all they heard was incoherent gurgling.

Eclipse suddenly stood over him and pushed him back into the wall with one foot. He spoke low into Springers audio receptor.

"You were always a feisty construct Wrecker. I designed you that way. Not too smart though...not bright enough to see the inevitable. I will use your mate and you to discredit your precious Primes. I will use rumors of your unborn to cause a new civil war between the Paradronians and the Autobots. My old form is gone, but this one will serve for the moment. I'm sure the Decepticons would like to be part of things around here again, but this time I will make sure they destroy Earth from the outset. Time for you to get sick Wrecker. Time for you to be my agent of fear. Transformers are always so easy to control when they're afraid."

He grabbed Springer's head and tilted it back. Then he dribbled gel around Springer's mouth and up the side of his face to his right optic.

Springer felt the burning begin and roared again for his mate who had been exposed for so much longer already.

x  
x  
x

"It BURNS!" Edana shrieked. "It burns! Arcee is burning! She's burning! Mommy make it stop!"

Lancer fought with herself. She had never been so close to full-berserker rage for so long without tipping over. She held on to her sanity by sheer will for the sake of her child. She bit her lip, completely piercing it. She wouldn't notice until two days later when the wound got infected.

"Edana! I can't make it stop! You have to do what Aunt Claudia taught you! You have to shield yourself!"

"I can't! There's too many voices! Everyone's so afraid and mad!" Edana sobbed. She was crying so hard it was all Lancer could do to understand her. The little mutant's pale eyes were so blood-shot that the irises were lighter than the whites and they darted erratically.

Lancer felt her heart grow cold. Edana had never looked so much like her father - except that she looked like he did when he was flashing. Pale, except for the dark circles around haunted, jerking eyes. Madness surely.

No! Lancer thought. Not my daughter too!

"Tell Daddy to make it stop! Tell him to stop the burning..." Edana whispered. She didn't mean to whisper but she was losing her voice. "Uncle Springer wants him to make it stop."

Lancer was so upset at the pain on Edana's face she almost missed the implications of what Edana was saying. Almost, but not quite.

"'Dana? Baby look at me," Lancer said. She gingerly arched her fingers as far back as she could and turned Edana's cold face to meet her eyes.

Edana's eyes kept jerking a bit randomly, but she looked at her mother. Suddenly on a mission, Lancer's motherly concern took a back-seat to her assassin's training. She didn't stop being afraid, but what she was thinking took the driver's seat away from her emotions. That in itself helped her daughter focus too. She felt Lancer's emotions take a step down and did her best to emulate what Lancer did.

"Edana...can you feel Uncle Springer? Can you tell where he is?"

"Daddy's moving away from him Mommy. Why is he doing that? It's going dark! Please tell him to make it stop! Hurry!"

"Sweetie, Daddy doesn't know where Uncle Springer is. He can't stop it until he finds him," Lancer whispered.

Edana stared at Lancer. At six she held the unshakable faith that her parents, especially her shape-changing, hand-standing, back-flipping, hilarious father could do absolutely anything.

"Why can't he find him? It's just like hide and seek...." Edana rasped. She was hide and seek champion of the Maelstrom. No one could hide from her. She didn't realize not everyone shared her ability to just feel a person's emotions...and Uncle Springer was screaming so loud. He was louder than anyone of all the roaring "voices" on Cybertron. That his location should be a mystery mystified her.

"Daddy can't feel hearts like you do Baby-girl...." Lancer voice trailed off.

She and Rodimus were both stunned, both scared, and both extremely reluctant to bring their child into their world of fear and violence at six. Never would have been fine, especially for Rodimus.

Clearly though, it was already too late. She was in it already.

Stop the burning.

x  
x  
x

Magnus threw his gun down in disgust when Rodimus suddenly turned tail, transformed, and sped back up to the restricted wing without explanation. The Major General ground his fists at his sides for a moment, then transformed and followed his errant leader.

x  
x  
x

Eclipse put on another broadcast. "The disease is progressing...it won't be much longer now I'm afraid...."

x  
x  
x

Optimus and Elita doggedly kept up their search pattern.

Kup, Boa, and Cosmos kept all the personnel trapped in Central when the lock-down started corralled in huge domed lobby on the ground floor. Cobalt, Python, and Inferno helped round up stragglers.

x  
x  
x

Jazz coordinated the fliers and ground patrols around Central. He hoped Arcee was found quickly. The enlisted Autobots were losing their tempers, especially with anyone carrying a protest sign or a press pass.

Crowds were gathering around Central, calling the Primes heretics or dictators, saying Arcee deserved plague for "defying Vector Sigma", and threatening to destroy Central to keep the plague from spreading.

Jazz called in Omega Supreme and the guardian's presence was enough to push the gathering mob away from Central's doors. For the moment. A ragged line of furious Autobot warriors flanked Omega feet, growing more restless with each new sign and slur aimed at their leaders, or Springer, or worst Arcee.

Jazz knew he couldn't keep a lid on this pressure cooker for long and was afraid. The Paradronians were rude, but they were armed only with rudeness. Their armor was thin and their weapons were signs. If the Autobots cracked and started firing it would be a massacre. The Specialist feared by the time he saw Optimus Prime again, he would presiding over a full-scale civil war.

Again.

Except this time the Autobots would be the ones with the guns.

"We gotta keep our cool!" Jazz shouted over the com.

He saw a sign branding Arcee a diseased whore.... Keep cool. Right. Frosty. No problem.

x  
x  
x

Magnus caught up with Rodimus at Rodi's quarters. The young Prime had told him what was up on the way and relayed what he was planning to Optimus and Elita as well.

They absorbed this plan with a mix of hope and grief.

Too young.

Edana didn't deserve to be used this way.

The sight of her when Lancer brought her out from the back rooms did nothing to ease Magnus' conscience.

Rodimus morphed human and she stumbled into his arms to receive the hug her mother couldn't give her. She was pale and sweaty and obviously about to drop.

"I'm sorry Edana," Rodimus whispered. "I'm sorry honey."

"If we're really going to do this, then you should get moving," Lancer growled, her tail lashing the floor.

Rodimus kissed Edana's cold forehead and brushed her damp bangs out of her eyes. He put her special "sunglasses" on gently and then took his daughter's face in his hands.

"We have to hurry Daddy," she told him listlessly.

"I know. We are going to play a game. Hide and seek. You will tell me which way to turn and I'll do whatever you say, alright?"

She sighed, too tired to sob, and nodded.

Rodimus took two steps back and morphed, staring at Edana the whole time. Then he transformed and opened the door to his cab. She got in and put on her seat-belt. Somehow she knew it was really a hug when it cinched up too tight around her. She sagged against the restraints and let them hold her up.

"Say bye to Mom," he told her.

Mom had points coming out of every angle, so she and Edana just pressed their foreheads together for a minute. Lancer stepped back and the door swung closed and locked. The Rodimus cloaked and pulled slowly out into the hall. He made an open channel to Magnus so the warrior could follow them.

"That way," Edana said. Rodimus went right and Magnus walked behind him.

Back in Rodimus' quarters Lancer went in back to check on Alex. She sighed at what she saw.

"Well little lady, whatever you are you sure aren't an empath," Lancer said.

Alex was having a great time chewing up her toys and babbling to herself.

x  
x  
x

"Show time," Eclipse told Springer and Blitzwing. The former Decepticon had come to a short time ago, but his struggles did no more good than Springer's had. The deranged medic mixed more gel (it became inert fairly quickly) and applied more to Arcee first.

The femme didn't even move.

Springer got his next "treatment" across the bridge of his nose and into his other optic. The first had gone dark about an hour after the first gel had been drizzled into it. Springer looked forward to the left optic going down too - it hurt considerably less after the neural circuits ate away. Blitzwing, the next "patient" got his gel rubbed into the split armor by his temple.

The Decepticon deserter didn't flinch. The Quints had done far worse to him, but his defiance only made Eclipse smile.

"So fierce," the medic gloated quietly. "When the Primes fall your people will no longer be befuddled by Rodimus' cage of lies. They will return to a world weakened by war and establish order. The Paradronians will welcome them as saviors from the chaos, and my cycle of peace and war will renew itself. You will not be there to see it though my defiant offspring. Rodimus might be though. I think I will have his head brought to me. I will keep him alive, helpless to move as I have been, so that he can watch as his plans come down and those he loves die. Those fleshling abominations he dotes on will go first of course, and the unnatural mate that spawned them will watch with him before she dies."

"Eclipse," one of the masked Paradronians called. "This femme isn't doing well. We should stop the reaction before the next broadcast."

"Fool! Her life is immaterial! She needs to die to stop this unholy cycle of breeding! It is Vector Sigma's right to give life...and take it!" Eclipse sneered.

"I didn't agree to kill anyone!" the Paradronian protested. "Scare them sure, but not kill anyone! Violence is wrong!"

"Be quiet you simpleton," Eclipse ordered. "We are faced with desperate times."

"That's it," the civilian snapped, throwing down his mask. "I wasn't comfortable with this whole thing from the start, but you convinced me a little violence was necessary to preserve our civilization, but this! This undermines everything I believe in. We can't kill this femme!"

There was uncomfortable muttering all around the room and sounds of agreement. Springer raised his head off the ground and looked up hopefully with his one remaining optic. The other was nothing but an oozing, sparking hole that drained energon like tears down his face.

"You are right," Eclipse said, spreading his arms. "Forgive me brother. My zeal has overrun my better nature. We will take her for treatment at once."

The Paradronian smiled and stepped forward in Eclipse's embrace.

The medic wrapped his arms around the civilian and then grabbed the pacifist around the throat with one hand. The Paradronian's mouth gaped in surprise and horror as Eclipse poured an entire canister of his deadly mix right down the dissenter's throat.

The Paradronian gurgled and thrashed on the floor. What was a slow-acting mixture on the outer hull of a robot's body was not so sluggish on delicate internal circuitry. It ate into his fuel pump and was pushed around his body in a matter of seconds. He died almost immediately but continued to dissolve over the course of the night.

Eclipse turned on the other kidnappers. None of them would meet his optics. He smiled.

Springer's head fell back to the floor with a thunk.

x  
x  
x

"Someone died," Edana whispered.

Rodimus couldn't find words to ask her who.

"I don't know who it was," the child said, as if hearing his need to know. "Go down again Daddy."

They were making tortuously slow progress through Central. Edana had narrowed their search down to the south-eastern quadrant of Central but the depth stymied her.

Optimus and Elita followed behind Rodimus on foot. They held hands. Magnus followed behind them. He held his gun.

"Uncle Blitzwing is awake now too. He is very angry too....and he's burning," Edana said. Her voice was little stronger now. Somehow playing this game had helped her get her mental "feet" under her and she was now able to shield out most of the thunderous emotional voices all around her to focus on the ones she wanted.

Arcee, Springer, and now, Blitzwing.

Arcee was almost comatose, and all of her efforts were geared towards keeping her new spark glowing. Blitzwing was angry, but nothing topped Springer. His other optic burned and then went dark. Going blind somehow made him more focused, more obsessed and furious over the state of his mate and the child he might never get to meet.

To Edana, it was as if a flare went off.

"Down!" she ordered her father, and he sensed she meant more than a level. He ramped up the speed and took them lower.

x  
x  
x

Outside the crowds were pushing at the Autobot line. Jazz screamed desperately for calm on all sides.

In the main lobby Kup's small group also had a restless, frightened crowd on their hands, although these people were more afraid of contamination that anything else.

x  
x  
x

First Aid sat back. The repairs on Steel Jaw weren't done by a long-shot, but the rest was purely cosmetic.

Ratchet was watching the latest broadcast of Arcee's melting, bubbling image with horrified concentration.

"Where have I seen that? Where...WHEELJACK!" he cried.

"What?" Blaster asked. Now that his cassette was out of danger, the communications officer was much more alert to his surroundings.

"Wheeljack! The idiot was fooling around in his lab after a bad fight with Starscream and the other goons. 'Jack had some lovely scorch marks on his keister. So he decided to up the usual cleaner with some of the stuff I use for fuel lines and he bubbled up like one of Spike's sodas!" Ratchet cried. He might have laughed at the memory except that Arcee's ruined face was still all over the air waves.

He remembered Wheeljack complaining how much even a few seconds of exposure hurt.

Arcee had been exposed for hours. Ratchet was pretty sure her child's spark would already be aborted. She wouldn't have enough energy to sustain them both at this point.

"How did you stop the reaction?" First Aid asked.

"I didn't," Ratchet mused. "Spike did. He grabbed a fire-extinguisher from Sparkplug's work-area and let it rip. Neutralized everything. That kid was a genius sometimes. We can stop it First Aid...if only we can get to them in time."

"That's super cool Ratchet," Blaster said with some of his usual electricity. "Now, do you mind telling me how you ended up as a light-show? Talk about a blast from the past!"

"Er..." First Aid said. "Um...he's classified."

"Classified," Blaster said.

"Uh,,,yeah," Ratchet said.

"First scary looking lady demons and now holographic dead guys..." Blaster said. "You dudes sure know how to throw a party."

CONTINUED IN PART F


	6. Chapter 6

Maelstrom Chapter 35  
The Longest Night

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored! This scene contains strong language, violence, and sex. Rated M for adult themes! **

**  
Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Story and OC characters are mine. Critiques adored!  
**

**Maelstrom Chapter 35  
The Longest Night**

Part F

CONTINUED FROM PART E

"Too far! Up a little!" Edana cried. She was actually sounding a bit excited. Rodimus spun around fast, giving her a bit of a thrill, although that wasn't his intention. He de-cloaked just long enough to get his trailing friends out of the way. They flattened themselves against the walls and he re-cloaked as he passed them. Up two levels he stopped.

"Here?" he asked.

Edana nodded.

The hall looked like any other, quiet and deserted, but it wasn't a restricted zone and Rodimus could use heat vision to see through the thin walls.

"Paydirt," he said over private channels to his friends. He wavered, wanting nothing more than to transform and start cutting...but his daughter was with him.

"We've got it partner," Optimus told him.

Rodimus hesitated.

"Enough," Optimus said. "I am working on trusting you again, you need to do the same for me. We've got it...partner."

"We need to discredit them or we'll have riots on our hands!" Rodimus said.

"Trust me!" Optimus assured him. "We've got it. Now take that little girl back home before something...happens."

Rodimus hesitated again, but only for a second. "Go get 'em Orion," he said. Why he chose that name at this point he never knew.

"Just roll out," Optimus ordered.

Rodimus backed up, did another giggle-inducing doughnut turn and headed quietly back up a few levels. Then he gunned the engines, determined to get Edana as far away from the fight as he could. Rodi didn't know if distance would help protect her but it seemed worth a few skid marks to try.

He hoped they wouldn't need him.

x  
x  
x

Elita went in first. Unseen, unheard she slipped into the dimly lit room and, like Rodi, had to school herself not to simply start mowing down bodies. Instead she slid in behind the camera-man, gripped his mouth, and inserted a drugged needle into the base of his neck. He went limp in her arms and she dragged him back out the door.

Fortunately the spotlight was literally and figuratively on Eclipse. Out in the hall she met the optics of her impatient mate and slipped the medical mask over her face. She went back in to take over the camera.

Optimus counted to thirty, drew his rifle, and kicked the door down.

"Cut the camera!" Eclipse yelled.

Elita nodded obediently and didn't do a damned thing.

"Optimus Prime! You're early! I'm almost surprised it's you and not your impetuous partner," Eclipse sneered. The hatred in his voice was grating.

"What have you done to my people?" Optimus asked. He heard Magnus talking to First Aid through their secured com lines but couldn't follow the conversation as Eclipse answered him.

"Just a bit of make-up for their close-ups," the former medic said smugly. He pointed to the chemicals on the table next to Arcee. Elita decided to give those a close up.

"Why are you doing this? She's carrying new life!" Optimus accused angrily.

"That new life is an abomination! She deserves to die for denying Vector Sigma its right to choose who lives and who dies! You are all slaves! By design! You have no capacity to decide what you do with your own lives, let alone begin new ones without permission!"

The muttering from the rest of the room was supposed to be supportive, but really merely sounded scared.

Optimus decided to ignore the others and focused on Eclipse.

"You know she's carrying a spark?" he said. There was no room for ambiguity.

"It will die with her! And the rest of Cybertron will be too afraid to try! They will turn on you for trying to free them Optimus Prime! You and your heretic partner are finished! They will fight you to remain slaves!" Eclipse's voice no longer even sounded like his own. Optimus recognized it. Vector Sigma.

"I won't let you kill her," Optimus said with finality.

"I am unarmed, Optimus Prime. You won't fire on me. You CAN'T fire on me," Eclipse sneered. He rushed for Arcee - intending to push his fingers through her softened casing and into her brain.

Optimus' rifle reported. Once. Twice. Three times.

Eclipse's smoking remains hit the far wall hard enough to dent it and slid down in a heap.

"Things change," Optimus said. The rest of the kidnappers ran for the door in panic only to find it blocked with one hell of a mean looking abomination named Ultra Magnus.

"Oh please give me an excuse," he said.

They threw their hands up.

Squealing tires sounded behind him in the hallway and Optimus was surprised to see Inferno racing into the room. Before he could even ask how Inferno had found them or what the fire-truck was doing there, Inferno sprayed the entire room with foam, starting with Arcee.

x  
x  
x

Many hours later, the Autobot femme lit her optics drowsily. She smiled to herself and then gasped. She touched her face, her arm. She touched smooth, raw metal. The paint hadn't been replaced yet. So. It hadn't been a nightmare after all. Trying to sit up proved too tiring.

"Arcee...?" The voice she most wanted to hear called her weakly from another part of the room. Which room? Med-lab.

"Springer?" she asked, breathless with relief.

"You're OK...you're awake?" he asked.

"You don't trust your own optics?" she asked with a small laugh. She couldn't see him yet, he was behind her.

"No. Not right now," he said.

Something in his voice gave her the strength to shift her body around enough to look at him...what was left of him.

"Springer!" she cried. He was riddled with holes, not the least of which were the two where his optics had been.

"Shh...it's just a pair of optics. I wouldn't let Opal replace them until we knew you and our little one were going to make it," Springer said. "You shut down almost everything to save her 'Cee. Almost too much. They had a hard time reviving you." There was a bit of reproach in his voice, but more there was relief, and love for her.

"How did they find us?" Arcee wanted to know.

There was a long pause. "Edana found us," Springer said quietly.

This left Arcee speechless.

Finally she said, "Rodimus...used his child...to help save us...and our child?"

"And stop a civil war," Rodimus voice answered her. She hadn't heard him walking up, but she was glad to see him. "You have no idea the amount of trouble you caused young lady," he teased her.

She found she had what it took to hit him.

Then his words hit home. "Civil war?"

"It's over before it began. Vector Sigma tried to use you to discredit us and incite a Paradronian revolt, but now that's he's failed it's making all the protesters look stupid. People are so embarrassed they are denying they took part - even if we have them on video."

"Vector Sigma....?" Arcee asked, confused.

"Eclipse. His real name was Welder, but Vector Sigma put a Trojan-horse virus into his mind sometime after I started using it for security. The news of your pregnancy triggered it. Sigma thought it would be dead already, but fortunately we kept it alive long enough to ask if it had any more nasty surprises for us."

"Did it?" Springer asked.

Rodimus sighed and looked grim. "One, but I don't want you two to worry about it. Sigma's gone. We blew it sky high so you don't need to be afraid of it anymore. Just get better pronto. That's an order, in case you missed it." He smiled at Arcee, gave Springer's arm a pat, and turned to leave.

Arcee caught his hand.

"Rodi...."

"What 'Cee?"

Arcee looked at up at him, with her head cocked to one side. "You know what they're calling our daughter? They're saying she's the first born, but she isn't the first born, Edana is."

Rodimus frowned, clearly a bit confused about this conversation. "It doesn't matter Arcee. All that matters is that you're all safe."

"Because of her...we are safe because you let her help. Rodi I know you! I know you'd be just as happy to put her on a deserted planet so she never has to face anything ugly....so she can keep the innocence you had to give away!"

Rodimus flinched hard enough that Springer heard it and knew his mate had touched a nerve.

Arcee went on, "I want you to know I know what that means to you. I'm not blind to the cost. You feel like you've killed part of your own daughter to save mine."

Rodimus hung his head and squeezed her hand. "What else could I do?"

"She's a hero, Rodi," Springer said.

"I never wanted her to be," Rodimus answered.

"We won't forget. Solstice won't either," Arcee promised.

"Solstice?" Rodimus asked.

"Yes. The day the light starts returning," Arcee explained. "This has been...a very long night."

Rodimus shook off a chill. There was more than one kind of solstice. "That's a pretty name," was all he told her.

He said goodbye to them and left med-bay with long strides, transforming and heading full tilt for his quarters where Pagan was waiting to 'port him to the Maelstrom. Lancer and the girls were already gone.

"Hey Pagan," he said as he skidded in and transformed on the fly.

"*TK*" she said. "I've been waiting."

"Sorry. I needed to see Arcee before we left," Rodimus explained. Pagan rattled her scales at him, un-mollified. He grabbed a few extra weapons out of his arms cabinet and sent them to subspace. Then he morphed and grabbed a few more out of his other arms cabinet and threw those rudely in a duffle bag. Oh right...clothes. Hmm...shoulda done some laundry. Oh well. Dirty works.

"Is Magnus up there already?" he asked, hoping for a few more seconds to think about what he needed.

Pagan's cranial fins flared. "Of course, and prompt he was too, male! As was the intelligent blue Female with the quiet steps."

"Elita's always organized," Rodimus grumbled, looking around for his scanner. Ah! On the table, under the coloring books. He grabbed it and said, "Ok! What are you waiting for?"

"*TK*! If you were not my dear friend's mate I would leave you between the lines Autobot!" Pagan said. "Robert is warming up the engines as we dally here! Char is a long way, even for the Maelstrom."

He smiled, wrapped his arms around her warm, scaly waist, and they teleported out.


End file.
